T'aint Nobody's Business If I Do
by Javanyet
Summary: Episode 5 in the 'Standards' Series. Data proposes to Leo, but don't start throwing rice just yet. Complete, but NOT 'over'.
1. Freestyle

_If I should take a notion  
To jump into the ocean,  
T'aint nobody's business if I do_

"Commander Worf? Lt. O'Reilly. The away team supplies are ready and waiting in Transporter Room 3, Commander."

"Thank you Lieutenant. Please advise the captain that we will be departing for the planet surface as soon we achieve synchronous orbit."

Leo consulted her dataport to access navigation. "That'll be 1300 hours, commander. Right on schedule. I'll let him know. Good luck, and watch your back. These folks asked for a security consult for a reason." She smiled as she heard Worf's stifled grunt of displeasure. He did not take cautions gladly, especially from an administrative officer.

"I shall endeavor to return in one piece, Lieutenant. Worf out."

Picard overheard the exchange through the open door that divided his ready room from Leo's much smaller office. Engineering and maintenance together had managed to subdivide a space from the captain's rather large ready room to devote to the admin exec function. They would certainly have been able to share a single large space, but both Picard and Leo harbored a need for at least the illusion of privacy and solitude.

"You really shouldn't torment him like that, Lieutenant. Commander Worf's pride is a sacred possession."

"You assume I was being facetious," Leo informed him as she approached his desk. "We all know how dicey things are down there right now."

The planet Rhezar 2 was a mining colony that had done business exclusively with Starfleet supplying dilithium for starship drives for slightly more than four years. A year ago a group of engineers discovered a rich source of neutronium some miles away from the original mine site and, together with some other tech specialists and mine workers, decided that they could negotiate a better arrangement as an independent supplier to a wider variety of customers outside of Starfleet. While it had been nearly a year since the decision was made to break off from the original colony and begin anew as a separate concern, the tension arising from the split had never abated.

The second Rhezar mine began to realize a profit, and tensions increased as the "Rhezar Neutronium Source" company followed several deep veins that eventually abutted land owned by the Rhezar 2 Dilithium colony. The Rhezar Dilithium concern claimed that the work of Rhezar Neutronium actually encroached on their mining property. While Federation mediators had been working on the problem, intermittent altercations between members of the respective companies had become more frequent. Most recently, there had been sabotage of the Rhezar Dilithium mining equipment and a maintenance worker had been injured in the explosion. A day later Starfleet had relayed to the Enterprise a request from Rhezar Dilithium for a security consultation. Security had never been much of a concern in the years the mine had been in operation. Until now, anyway.

"Point taken. This away team will conduct the preliminary analysis of the Rhezar Dilithium operation."

"Right. And Worf and his people will meet with the Rhezar Dilithium execs and staff to discuss what measures might be necessary given the structure of the organization and the infrastructure of the respective mines. The Federation mediators have tried to raise the security issues in their meetings with both sides, but Rhezar Neutronium insists that their people have nothing to do with the sabotage. The rest of the confrontations could best be described as bar fights resulting from the ongoing pissing contest between the companies' workers. Ain't free enterprise grand. You should pardon the expression."

"I trust your ongoing reports are expressed in more Starfleet-appropriate language?" Picard commented drily.

Leo rolled her eyes and assured him, "_Yes_ sir. Colorful colloquialisms strictly omitted."

"Very well. Dismissed."

Leo hastened to add before she turned to go, "I'm saving them for my memoirs. All names and locations changed to protect the innocent, of course."

"_Dismissed_."

"Yes, sir." She returned to her garret (she knew a garret was supposed to be up high or something, but she figured floating in space might count) to undertake the breakdown of personnel records to be sent to department commanders who would schedule crew reviews. The schedules then would be returned to Leo, who would notify the respective crewmembers and review any conflicts to be passed back to the department commanders. And so on. Leo realized that to an outsider such procedures must seem impossibly Byzantine, but the fact was that this and other protocols set up by herself, the senior staff, and the captain had already begun to streamline ship's operations without compromising efficiency. Leo had to admit even she was surprised. It wasn't without difficulties but the results pleased her greatly.

Given the 900-member crew complement, Leo's work on the personnel records would require several days to complete. She was even accessing them from her quarters. It was the first time the full review was to be completed with the new procedure, and she was just a little bit driven to bring it in on schedule. Hours had passed when she heard the captain's comlink summon him to sickbay for urgent business. Not that it didn't interest her, but Leo knew that it wasn't her business to become involved in any situation unless and until she was directed by the captain to do so, or directly requested by someone else involved. Besides, a sickbay matter could mean anything at all.

Moments after the captain left calling to her, "I'll be in sickbay, Lieutenant!" the door comlink chimed. Swell. She was busting to wade through this and already an interruption. Oh well, she _wanted_ this post after all.

"Lieutenant Walter Jennings, captain, it's urgent I see you."

Leo triggered the door function from the captain's desk, simultaneously accessing the crew roster via his dataport. Jennings, Walter, Lieutenant. Stellar cartography. "I'm sorry Lieutenant, the captain has been called away. If you'll tell me what you wish to see him about…" when at last she looked up she stopped in mid-sentence. The officer standing before her was obviously frantic, wringing his hands, eyes wild. Leo hit the door remote again to close it.

"Lieutenant Jennings, please, catch your breath. Tell me what's happening."

"My wife… Irene… she was on the away team to Rhezar 2. Something's happened, I need to know… I was nearer here than to security, I can't raise Commander Worf on his comlink, I can't raise sickbay, I need to know what's _happened_."

That must have been why the captain was called away. Leo activated his private link to Beverly Crusher's office.

"Lieutenant O'Reilly. Doctor, I have a very distraught crewmember in the ready room requesting information about the away team. What can you tell me?"

To her surprise Nurse Ogawa answered. "Lieutenant, we're busy with casualties."

"Casualties? What's going on?" She cast a glance at Jennings and switched the comlink to "closed", then picked up the transceiver and put it on, turning her back. "I don't need details, Alyssa," she all but whispered, "but Lt. Jennings is wound _very_ tight and I need to tell him _something_."

"There was a cave-in of one of the mine chambers during the walk-through. Three mine employees injured, two of three away team injured, one badly. One dead… Ensign Irene Jennings."

Leo took a breath. A deep, big one. "Thanks Alyssa, keep me informed. O'Reilly out." Having no idea what she would say or do next, she turned to face Jennings. He'd gone pale as snow, obviously having heard that there were casualties in sickbay. Leo was stupidly silent.

"Lt. O'Reilly, a friend of mine in security just told me that there's been an accident with the away team, _please_ if you know something you have to tell me!"

Goddamn corridor chatter, it moved faster than any com technology on the ship.

"Lt. Jennings, please, sit down." She was trying desperately to behave professionally, whatever that meant.

Jennings shook his head tensely. "I don't want to sit down. I want you to tell me about my wife, Ensign Irene Jennings, who went down with that away team."

Desperate, Leo tried obfuscation. "I have very little information. Yes, there was a cave in. The away team was affected."

"_Affected_. You know what happened." He approached the desk and slammed both hands down. "Goddammit, I have a right to know!"

This was wrong, it was all out of order. It was the department commander's job to deliver casualty notifications to next of kin. Failing that, it was the captain's responsibility. But Worf was likely injured, the captain in sickbay no doubt trying to get the details. Jesus Christ, what was she _doing_ here?

"Lt. Jennings. There was a cave-in during the walk-through with the company representatives and the away team. Two of the away team were injured, one badly." She gulped a breath, unable to think of anything but the desperate face before her. "Ensign Jen… your wife… Irene. She was killed in the accident. It's all I know right now, I'm sorry." Jennings didn't react, not the twitch of an eyelash. "God, I'm _so sorry_," Leo added, her distress quite genuine.

Rather than erupting in violence or hysterics, Walter Jennings collapsed in the chair across from Leo, staring into space as if gathering his thoughts. Cautiously Leo sat as well, and waited.

"You know," he said almost casually, as if to no one, "you think you get it. You think you understand all about it, the risk, the enormity of it all. I mean, hell, exploring space, flying into the vacuum, getting involved in who knows what with who knows what chance of getting out again. We always joked that I had the most dangerous job, that I'd get so absorbed in mapping the stars that I'd forget to eat or drink. I'd starve to death, where she was at least a fully armed and moving target."

Floundering but no longer panicked, Leo ventured, "Is there someone I can contact, until you can speak with Dr. Crusher? Shall I call Counselor Troi?"

Incredibly, he smiled, though he was staring at the floor between his feet. "Not just yet. There's not much to verbalize that would make sense to a counselor. It's funny, guys I knew at the Academy, some women too, swore they'd never get married. Couldn't see the point, and didn't want to take the risk considering the life they were getting into. As if you're sparing yourself or someone else by going it alone."

"How long were you and Irene married?" Leo was, honestly, on automatic pilot. She didn't know this crewman from Adam, but the words came unbidden as if she had the right to know.

"Two years. Just six months after she was assigned to the Enterprise. Funny it never occurred to me to back away, even knowing she was doing one of the most dangerous jobs on the ship. Once we knew each other, _really_ knew each other, there was just no other option. Living together wasn't enough."

Unable to stop herself, Leo asked a question that in retrospect she would consider appallingly inappropriate. "But what could it have changed between you? What could it have made more complete?"

Jennings raised his head, his eyes red-rimmed, but his face somehow transformed with a secret knowledge.

"_Everything_."

The silence that followed was broken by the door comlink.

"Lt. O'Reilly, it's Counselor Troi. Is Lt. Jennings still with you?"

"Yes, just a moment please." Leo looked questioningly at Jennings. He nodded his head so she invited, "Come in, Counselor."

When Deanna entered she found the scene surprisingly calm. Lt. Jennings wasn't the distraught husband she'd expected to find on the edge of losing control. If anything, she sensed Leo was the more unsettled of the two.

"Lt. Jennings," Troi told him gently, "I'll take you to sickbay if you like. We can talk privately later."

He stood and nodded, then turned to Leo. "Thank you, Lieutenant. Thanks for listening."

Leo could answer with nothing more than a witless shrug. "Take care, Lieutenant."

As Jennings preceded Deanna to the door, she spared a backward look at Leo. "Okay?" she mouthed silently. Leo nodded. Yeah, fine.

Alone again in the ready room, Leo went to the replicator. "Tea. Jasmine. Hot."

When she picked up the glass her hand was shaking so badly half the liquid splashed out, burning her.


	2. Distant reassurance

"Lt. O'Reilly, we need to talk. Lieutenant?"

Picard repeated her name several times before she looked up from her data screen. She'd been staring at the screen for who knows how long, not getting anything done at all. When finally Picard's voice registered Leo started dramatically as if discovered in an illicit pursuit.

"Captain! I'm sorry sir, I guess I was distracted." She knew he was going to chew her out for the incident with Lt. Jennings. She gave out more information than she should, and she'd made a real mess of it.

"Come out here for a few moments, will you? I have something to discuss with you."

Leo followed Picard into the ready room proper; to her surprise he sat not at his desk but on the sofa nearby, and indicated she should join him. She did so, hesitantly.

"Lieutenant, what happened here today should not have happened at all."

In a rush she tried to explain. "I'm sorry sir, I know I breached protocol and I didn't mean to overstep my authority. But you weren't here, and Worf was injured, and Lt. Jennings was _here_, and I didn't know what to do, I couldn't just tell him to have a seat until you got back, I'm sorry but I just ran on instinct…"

Picard cut her off with a hand on her arm. "Leo, please listen to me. I'm not going to chastise you for what you did. You stepped into a difficult situation and handled it the only way you could."

"Sir?"

"There's a reason that next-of-kin notification is typically the responsibility of commanders and captains." Leo opened her mouth to explain yet again, but Picard shushed her with a raised finger. "The reason is that we undergo specific training, undertake counseling seminars and the like, all to prepare us for what you were confronted with today. It's the most difficult and most unpleasant duty of any command, and circumstances trapped you into that duty today entirely unprepared. For what it's worth, training or no it never gets easier. But the first time is without question the most painful and deeply disturbing."

It took Leo a moment or two to answer. "Sir, I made some bad decisions today and said some things I shouldn't because of my own personal feelings. I don't guess they could have made things worse but they sure didn't help anyone. I thought I'd let you know that, in case it comes up later."

Picard offered a reassuring smile. "Whatever was said will be considered in the spirit it was spoken. Whether or not it was self-serving is for you alone to consider, but I'd advise you not to be overly self-critical. You were faced with a situation that officers with ten times your experience spend every waking minute working and hoping to avoid. And according to Counselor Troi you handled it rather well considering."

Still, Leo shook her head. "You mean considering it was handling me." As she gestured, Picard noticed the ugly red burn across the back of her left hand.

"What's this?" he asked, pointing to the wound.

She looked at her hand as if for the first time. She hadn't noticed any pain, even though the scalded skin was blistered in a couple of places. "Oh, I got some tea. I must have spilled it or something."

"You should go to sickbay and have it seen to."

She shook her head, rather vaguely Picard noticed. "I have so much more work to do…"

"That was not a suggestion, Lieutenant. In fact when Dr. Crusher has taken care of your hand, you may return to your quarters. And I might suggest checking in with Counselor Troi as soon as it's convenient." He headed off her protest, "Leo, I'm very serious. Your watch is technically over, habitual extra time notwithstanding." He stood to indicate the discussion was finished. "Now go have your hand seen to, and get some rest. Take tomorrow to begin to sort all of this out, whether or not you see Deanna." He knew beyond a doubt she'd be sharing this with Data, and wanted to give her time to recover her focus. Right now she seemed shell-shocked, and with good reason.

"Sir, I really think I'm able to judge," she began, but again was silenced by Picard's increasingly stern expression and tone of voice.

"It would be best if you defer to my judgment, Lieutenant. Don't force me to make it an order."

"Understood, sir." Leo sighed as she rose to leave. "Is it okay if I access the ship's personnel files from my quarters?"

It was Picard's turn to sigh. "I could suggest not, but you wouldn't listen, would you? Leora, honestly, you have nothing to prove to me or anyone else."

"Thank you for saying so, sir. I'll try not to work tomorrow, but I can't promise anything."

"As long as you see to yourself, Lieutenant, that will be sufficient. Dismissed."

"Yes, sir."

"This looks rather nasty," Beverly observed as she examined Leo's hand. "How long ago did it happen?"

"I'm not sure, exactly, I think right after Deanna collected Lt. Jennings."

Beverly gave a low whistle. "An hour ago, anyway. Well it is what it is. Put your hand down here," she indicated a draped tray. "It's an old fashioned scald, so we'll go with a bit of old fashioned treatment," she explained as she sprayed the burn with saline, then with something Leo couldn't identify that immediately cooled the pain she'd only begun to be aware of. Finally a light wrap of gauzy material was applied. "I wouldn't bother ordinarily, but this will protect the blisters until the histo-compound heals the rest. It should be cleared up entirely by morning at the latest."

"Beverly, how is Commander Worf?" She realized she'd never found out which of the surviving away team members had been the "badly injured" one.

"Worf sustained a slight fracture of his left ulna and a separated left shoulder, and a moderate concussion that would have crushed the skull of a human. He's complaining mightily but I'm keeping him down here until tomorrow to keep an eye on him."

"Can I see him?"

"You can try. I sedated him lightly, mostly to keep him in line, but he should be awake. He's in the infirmary. Lt. Jacobs suffered some internal injuries so I have him in isolation. He'll take longer to come out of it, but he'll be fine too. The mine employees I treated and sent back to the planet."

"Thanks."

Leo ventured to the door of the infirmary and saw Worf lying on a bed in the first cubicle. He seemed to dwarf the space, making it appear much smaller than it was.

"Commander?" she asked quietly, not wanting to wake him if he was asleep.

"Come."

She approached the bed gingerly. He was awake but seemed slightly groggy. "Commander Worf, I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing." She held her bandaged left hand behind her back. It seemed inappropriate to reveal something so minor in the face of what had happened.

"Lt. O'Reilly. It seems I should have considered your words more carefully," he said with a bitter edge.

"Don't, okay? We both know that whatever happened you and your team did whatever needed to be done."

"Ensign Jennings' bravery saved us. She had taken the lead and heard the first rumble up ahead, and we began to make our escape. However one of the mining engineers ran back to see what was happening, and Ensign Jennings followed to force him to return. I in turn followed her. The engineer rejoined us, but the inner cavern roof had already given way before Ensign Jennings could follow and the cave-in cascaded toward the connecting tunnel and the outer cavern where the rest of the party had retreated. I was unable to save her."

'You did your best, Commander."

Worf acknowledged the comment with a grunt and told Leo, "Lt. Jennings came to me after speaking with Dr. Crusher. I told him Ensign Jennings had acted courageously and honorably, and saved many lives."

"I'm sure it helped him to hear that."

"Lt. Jennings informed me that you, too, acted courageously and honorably when he confronted you in the Captain's ready room."

Leo shifted uncomfortably and said in a small voice, "I told him his wife was dead. What honor was there in that?"

He answered decisively. "The honor of truthfulness. The courageousness of facing a challenge you were not prepared for. You could have shifted the responsibility to Commander Riker. Your rank would permit it."

"How could I do something like that, just pass him on like an unwelcome task when he was right there and had lost everything?"

Worf nodded gravely, not quite responding to a twinge of pain. "That is a question only an honorable person would ask herself."

She knew Worf's words weren't to be taken lightly, but they seemed as distant to her as the captain's reassurances. "Thank you, Worf. That means a lot coming from you." She meant it. "I'll leave you to mend. Try not to drive Dr. Crusher and Nurse Ogawa crazy, okay?"

The Klingon rolled his eyes in a long-suffering gesture that had become familiar to Leo, who did enjoy teasing him. "Thank you for coming by, Lieutenant."

"See you on the bridge, Mr. Worf."

Leo returned to empty quarters. She wasn't the only one given to putting in extra duty. When Data got absorbed in a project he could run hours into the next watch before Geordi or someone else dislodged him with the reminder that he had "a home to go to".

Too beaten to eat even "instant gratification cuisine" (as she'd come to call replicated meals even as she admitted they were pretty okay) Leo trudged into the bedroom and changed into her tiger striped pj's. They were her last tenuous connection to Paul; a gift he'd given her the year he'd died. While she didn't consider them anything as otherworldly as a spiritual link to her lost friend, wearing them created a sort of physical reminder of the comfort she'd found in their friendship. They just made her feel better and that was that (though she wasn't sure if they'd be up to the challenge this time). She'd keep them and clean them and wear them until nothing remained but a ball of black, white, and russet lint, and then and only then would she switch to the identical (but not) pj's Data had replicated for her shortly after her arrival. The originals were standing up well to the 24th century, all things considered. Once she'd hung up her uniform Leo realized that, although completely wasted, she didn't want to lie down alone in the big bed. So she wandered back out into the main room and plopped at one end of the sofa to await Data's return, staring into space at nothing in particular.

The warmth of a pudgy furred body rubbing against her leg made her nearly jump out of her skin. Spot clearly was not fond of Leo, though Leo had come to accept Data's assurances that Spot didn't officially hate her. Leo didn't even bother to feed Spot, because once she set the food dish down the cranky beast would simply ignore it until Data touched it again with his own hand. Leo bet that if circumstances kept Data away long enough that the damn thing would starve herself to death out of sheer spite.

But now the two golden eyes – remarkably like Data's even if the disposition behind them was not – regarded Leo with a sort of measured consideration, as if analyzing the situation the way her master might. With a muffled "humph" the cat threw herself up and into Leo's lap and remained there like a puddle of upholstered jello.

"Hey Spot," Leo muttered, and without thinking rested her right hand in Spot's orange and white coat and commenced to stroke it from head to tail as if Spot were a typically affectionate pet instead of Catzilla from Hell. The soothing, repetitive motion of her hand in the soft fur triggered in Leo a loosening of whatever unconscious willpower had kept its grip on her since this afternoon and, never breaking her measured rhythm as she stroked the now-purring cat, she dropped her face into her bandaged hand and cried.


	3. Jump in the ocean

Captain Picard was finishing his review of the report of the incident on Rhezar 2 when the door comlink chimed.

"Come."

"Captain, I have come to see Lt. O'Reilly back to our quarters if she is ready to leave."

"She's already gone, Data, I sent her to sickbay with orders to return to quarters afterward. That was roughly," he checked the chronometer in his viewscreen, "half an hour ago, I'd say." While it was atypical for Data to "pick up" Leo after her watch was concluded – in fact both of them were prone to unpredictable self-imposed overtime – his arrival was no surprise. By now all of the senior staff were aware of the accident on Rhezar and the incident in the ready room.

"Sickbay?" Both the question and Data's facial expression betrayed concern.

"Just a scalded hand. Tea. Why don't you let her tell you about it."

"Yes sir. Thank you, sir."

When Data entered their quarters he encountered a most unusual scene. Leo was propped up at one end of the sofa, wearing the ubiquitous tiger striped pj's and seemingly asleep, one hand lying atop Spot who lay purring in her lap. Data had never known Spot to accept any but the briefest physical contact from Leo. He approached carefully and sat close by where Leo was slumped against the cushions.

"Leo," he called to her softly, and smoothed her hair away from her face. She mumbled fitfully at first then, as Data picked up her bandaged hand to examine it, she woke and struggled upright, saying nothing at first.

"Hey," she half-croaked. Her voice always took a minute or two to "unstick" when she first woke. Data continued to hold her injured hand. "How'd this get here," she muttered down at Spot who, seeing her master had returned and would take over from here, roused herself and hopped off of Leo's lap to wander away to parts unknown.

"You have injured your hand." Data concluded that it might be wiser to address the more minor and everyday issues first.

"Uh-huh. I spilled some tea. Altogether a real klutz day." She sighed shakily as she looked down at Data's hand holding hers as if it were made of spun glass.

"You did nothing wrong. You performed a difficult duty as well as was possible," he explained.

Leo dropped her head back on the sofa cushion again. "I know. The captain told me. Even Worf told me. That's not it."

Data tried to smile reassuringly and offered what he thought might be supportive words. "Relaying painful news is a difficult task. The messenger can sometimes feel illogical guilt, as if you were somehow responsible for the pain." He was dismayed to see Leo rolling her head from side to side, no.

"I do not understand. You have said you are aware you did not act inappropriately. You now say you do not feel any illogical guilt. And yet you appear depressed and listless. It is not like you, Leo, even after a diffidult day."

There wasn't any analog for this, was there? So she simply stared miserably at Data and told him, "I don't know if I can make it make sense. When I looked at Lt. Jennings' face, I saw myself."

"I do not understand."

She really didn't feel up to explaining things. In fact she'd become accustomed to not _having_ to explain things within these several walls. She felt bruised and empty inside. Even if she knew it would pass, it was killing her _now_. Smiling weakly, she pushed herself up off the sofa.

"I wanna lie down. My head hurts."

"Have you eaten?"

"No." She continued into the bedroom and curled up on the bed with her back to the door. Data trailed after her, a picture of solicitous concern she just couldn't deal with right now.

"Perhaps Dr. Crusher…"

"_No_, okay?" Leo's sharp protest surprised him. Data sat hesitantly on the bed behind her, uncertain what to do.

"I do not wish you to be in distress."

Now Leo sat up and faced Data, ragged and frustrated. "Well there's nothing you can do. It just is what it is. You can't _fix_ everything, okay? You can't always find a way to _help_ me fix things, either, because some shit just isn't for fixing."

He was struggling to comprehend. "You said you saw yourself when you looked at Lt. Jennings."

"I don't wanna talk about it, okay?" On the other hand why had she sat there staring at the door waiting for him to come back if she didn't want to talk to him about it? Just shut up and it'll dissipate, she insisted to herself.

Leo's use of the word "wanna" was a clue for Data. She was obviously distraught and unwilling to share the reasons, and now would not be a good time for logical discussion. "Very well." He regarded her silently for a moment, and the wish to avoid an argument trumped his desire to ease her mind. Data knew well enough that while in this mood Leo's next reaction would be anger and frustration, emotions which his calm and logical approach only seemed to amplify when they occurred. He seemed to have that effect on most humans when they reached a certain level of anger, his calm demeanor paradoxically fuelling outrage. In any case he had no desire to upset her further. "I will be engaged in the other room."

"Fine." She flopped back on the bed, this time curled up facing Data where he sat. "I'm sorry," she said softly as he began to stand up. "I'm a real bitch sometimes, I know it. I try to absorb some of your 'calm under fire' but I'm no good at it. I don't mean to talk to you like you're some interloper, I just need to be alone with this."

Data sat again and laid a hand on Leo's head (she wondered why it never felt patronizing, when anyone else would get slapped away). "Words cannot change what is between us. But even in silence you will never be 'alone' in anything so long as I am here. And I will always be." He ran his fingers along her cheek and left the bedroom.

Shit. It was impossible to wallow in miserable bitchdom when Data was so relentlessly caring and understanding. You say that like it's a bad thing, she answered herself in one of her internal conversations. Anyway, it made her feel worse.

"D?" Leo called out a bit hesitantly, "come back, will you?" He returned so quickly that if she hadn't known better she'd swear he'd been hovering just outside the doorway, hidden from sight. As she began to sit up he stopped her, "No, remain as you are. I will join you." And he stretched out next to her on his side, with about a foot between them, face-to-face as if they were standing up, except as Leo had noted on more than one occasion "We're all the same height lying down."

They stared at each other for several minutes. Data managed to keep his hands to himself, no mean feat considering his addiction to the never-ending "tactile exploration" of Leo.

"It's like this, Data…" Leo began, and reached out to briefly touch his face, "you're really good at figuring things out and making them right, even with me. But this time it's just not like that. I told you I saw myself in Lt. Jennings because at that moment when I told him about his wife, and that moment after, I was looking for the answer to the question that's hung around in my head since before I left Earth."

As she paused to gather her thoughts Data prompted, "And what was that?"

She felt like a real loon, lying here on the bed about to confess possibly the most neurotic secret she harbored.

"Since the day I got the call that Paul died, christ, this sounds crazy, but I wondered, what did _I _ look like? What part of me might someone have seen me lose, forever, when I heard he was gone? See, it was a phone call, and nobody was there, and I shut myself up for days."

Data was frowning, gathering the substance of the revelation. "That must have been very difficult."

"I'm not sure if being with someone would have helped, to be honest. It was such an incredibly subjective, personal loss I think anyone else might just have been in the way."

"As I was in the way." It was acknowledgment only.

"I know it's not fair, and I know it's selfish, but in a way yes. Some parts of me I keep to myself, some thoughts I have are just too personal to share, even with you. But I know I'm not always right about that. I'm thinking maybe not, this time."

"And did you find an answer to your question?"

Leo felt the barest trace of tears rise to her eyes as she answered, "No." She'd honestly believed she hadn't a single tear left for the loss that had redefined her life and led her to reshape her entire world.

"Perhaps there is no answer. Perhaps what you lost at that moment was not a part of yourself, but the knowledge of your connection."

"But that _was_ part of me, D, how could it not be? If I lost my connection with you, I'd lose another part of me. Is it any wonder I choose my friends so carefully? I only have so many parts to go around." Her lame attempt at an even lamer joke didn't alter Data's steady gaze. "Nobody can fix this, it's just part of life," she told him, "I know that, and I deal with it. But sometimes something gets to me, deep, and it's like this," she held up her injured hand as if to demonstrate, "It's not the end of the world, and it's gonna heal pretty quickly, but there's not much to do except keep it safe until it does. It's a sorry fact of human emotion that isn't gonna change, at least not for me. Understand? It's not that I don't _want_ you to help, just sometimes you _can't_."

"Here," Data said simply, and pulled Leo into his arms, "when you are burned unexpectedly, even inside, I can keep you safe until you heal."

Who was she to argue with that desperately-needed offer? They lay there for a bit, Leo taking the same sort of comfort in silence that another might take in a lover's heartbeat.

"Leo," he said finally, very quietly, "do you believe it might be possible for us to engage in the same domestic arrangement as Keiko and Miles O'Brien?" He misunderstood her stunned silence.

"I am sorry. This is not an appropriate time to examine such an undertaking."

Leo raised her head from Data's shoulder, in fact she pulled away, then leaned closer, then away again.

"Leo, are you all right?" Data inquired with some alarm.

"D, did you just ask me to marry you?"

"I have been considering Miles and Keiko's domestic agreement, and it seems that their mutual declaration of vows in front of a company of friends and recognized Starfleet officiation has clearly defined their status as a couple, and has lent an air of permanence both socially and personally. I have wondered if the same arrangement might be a logical one for us to establish. If you are amenable."

Leo's eyes narrowed. "Have you been talking to Geordi, or Beverly?"

Puzzlement. "You are already aware that I frequently engage in conversation with both, as they are my crewmates and my friends."

"Oh, never mind," Leo pushed Data onto his back and pinned him (yeah, sure, pinned an android) beneath her on the bed. "Okay, Data, I am amenable to establishing a domestic arrangement similar to Miles and Keiko's."

His eyes widened. "Then you have agreed to marry me?"

"_Yes_, Data."

He nodded as if considering a host of variables. "I am glad. We can delay the discussion of details until you are feeling better."

Rolling onto her back next to him Leo announced to the ceiling, "Heaven help you, D, I hope you know what you're getting into." It was Data's turn to lean over where she lay and inform her seriously, "I do not believe I will need heaven's help, Leora Eileen. In the months since we have met I have witnessed ample demonstration of what I will be 'getting into'. I believe I am up to the challenge."

Before pulling him down in for a mouth-vacuuming kiss Leo replied, "Famous last words."


	4. Intermezzo

"I must prepare for my watch."

The whisper in her ear barely reached Leo in her sleepy fog, but the kiss that followed cut clear through to her consciousness. Still pre-verbal, she sort of nodded into the pillow but turned her face enough to see Data slip out of bed and head for the sonic shower in the 1/8th light he'd requested from the computer. My god, but he was beautiful; pale golden skin she knew was as warm and soft as a dream, perfectly designed body that moved with an unselfconscious ease that caught her attention whenever he walked past (or away… _especially_ away). She knew of course how real he was, because since she'd moved in with him she had become intimately acquainted with every centimeter of Data's anatomy right down to the finely shaped butt she occasionally complimented just to enjoy his consternation.

"I do not believe I will ever understand the human female obsession with the male gluteus maximus," he would tell her in genuine puzzlement, "it is not any part of a man that may be noted for particular accomplishment."

"Sez you," Leo snorted, "Trust me, I hate it when you leave but I love to watch you go." He always shook his head in response, patiently perplexed.

Leo rolled on her back and listened to the hum of the sonic shower. Data's version of head-to-toe hygiene was of course different than hers given his synthetic skin and lack of sweat glands, but on mornings like this it was the sweat Leo had worked up that he needed to concern himself with. "Afraid to smell like me?" she was fond of teasing. "It's not as if they don't know what we're up to."

"Nevertheless," he'd reply somewhat primly, "it is not necessary to share our intimacy with others. It then would no longer be intimate."

For a walking sexual smorgasbörd he sure could be prissy.

Hovering pleasantly between sleep and wakefulness, Leo wondered idly whether all couples made love like crazed weasels upon agreeing to marry. Oh all right, _she_ was the crazed weasel, she had to admit. Data was focused, deliberate, gentle… and tireless. Though his sexual programming did not permit inflicting pain, the Drs. Soong obviously had overlooked the possibility of Data wearing out his paramour with his brilliantly designed subroutines. Or perhaps they didn't. Not that Leo was complaining, oh my no. To say that Data was accomplished in the ways of "intimate bonding" -- she was endlessly amused by his wealth of painfully discreet euphemisms for "screwing your brains out" -- was a criminal understatement. Since Leo came to understand his conceptualization of sexual relations she'd tossed out even the slightest concern that Data wasn't getting, in his way, as much as he gave. And have mercy, did he give. He loved having his hands (and other things) on her possibly even more than she did, she had to admit, albeit for reasons somewhat more complex than carnal. All she knew was that the first time they made love she all but passed out, and when Data had asked with the barest trace of guile, "Was that satisfactory?" she'd managed to gasp weakly, "uh-huh." She had also acquired a new appreciation for careful phrasing; the first time she'd moaned in his ear "don't stop" his willingness to comply damn near killed her.

Hell, she mused as she lazed in bed, since she was already hopelessly, witlessly in love with him before they ever actually did the horizontal mambo (Leo thought Data's eyes would pop right out and roll away when she first used_ that_ euphemism) what shame could there be in appreciating the "perks" of his android nature for which she didn't have to define an "analog"? The tawdry fact was that on a night like last night Leo was way more than willing to jettison all of the nobler, esoteric aspects of their relationship and enjoy Data's passionate creativity until his circuits melted. Considering the friendship, devotion, intellectual (and other) stimulation, the care and understanding she'd found all wrapped up in one sweetly patient and undeniably gorgeous positronic package, what the _fuck_ was there not to like?

Leo was nearly submerged once more in contented slumber when she felt the bed give slightly, and opened her eyes to see the freshly polished and uniformed Data seated next to her.

"Good morning." He sounded like a freaking news commentator, not the Galaxy-class love machine who'd driven her crazy all night.

"Speak for yourself. I've gotta get some _sleep_."

Data borrowed an oft-used phrase of Leo's reserved for times when she had too much work to finish and not enough time, "Sleep is for wimps."

"Smartass."

That made him smile with satisfaction. He didn't always pull off "smartass" very smoothly, so when it happened notice must be taken. "What will you do today, Leo, as you have no duty?"

She stretched and gave up a "wake-up whimper", not unlike Spot after one of her perpetual naps. Data couldn't resist laying a hand on her waist to experience the process. "Wellll…once I recover from my night with the Don Juan of the Daystrom Institute," Data's smile tightened a bit into the nearest thing to a smirk he'd been able to master, "I dunno. Maybe wander in Keiko's stellarium, maybe hang out on the holodeck and commune with Shakespeare… the day is my oyster, to borrow somebody's phrase." She wasn't pleased to see Data frowning slightly.

"May I suggest something?"

She knew already what it was, but nodded yeah, go ahead.

"Perhaps you can meet with Counselor Troi, and discuss some of what you confided in me yesterday evening."

"Before or after we messed up the bed?"

He was not amused. "Leo, while I have learned from my research and my friends that humor can be useful for healing, it is my observation that you often use it for the deflection of issues you do not wish to consider."

"Busted." All her life Leo had gotten unreasonably pissed off when people saw too deep and had the temerity to announce it. Even Paul got the "back off" signal on occasion though he marked it only temporarily. Data was impervious to "back off". He was impervious to pretty much all of her mental manipulation though she rarely resorted to it with him. She knew in any case she could only ever fool him once. "Shame on me" was not an option with an android.

And oh brother, there it was, hovering over her as she fought the urge to crawl under the covers and hide. The maddeningly placid "Forever" face. I can wait forever for you to listen to reason. And goddamn him, he could too.

"Okay, fine. I'm sure that'll be the first thing the captain will ask me anyway when I show up for duty tomorrow, 'Did you see Counselor Troi'. It'll be a closed issue if I say yes, but if I say no I'll never hear the end of it." She huffed a sigh of annoyance. "What _is_ it with this freaking conspiracy to make me well-adjusted. If I lose all my neuroses and become perfectly perfect you'll be bored with me in no time." Now Data's smile returned, "her" Data smile in fact.

"I do not expect that either eventuality will come to pass. Now I must go, or I will be late for duty."

"Wouldn't that drop Geordi in his tracks." She knew he was involved in running batch tests on the dilithium that the Enterprise would be taking on from Rhezar 2. Business was business, inter-company warfare or no. Data was giving her the "look" again, the Contemplative Look that as far as she was concerned was his equivalent of a loving gaze. She gave him a shove. "You'd better get going, Commander, or I'm gonna pull you right back into bed and that will be that."

"I think not." He stood and headed for the door, calling over his shoulder, "I am protected by my lack of human hormones and am impervious to your attempts at carnal stimulation."

"That's not what you said last night!" she hollered after him as the door slid shut. "Computer, wake at 1030 hours please."

"Wake 1030 hours, so recorded."

"And computer, contact Counselor Troi and schedule a meeting for 1300 hours."

"Meeting with Counselor Troi, 1300 hours, contacting now, so recorded."

That oughta make all the worrywarts happy, she figured, as she crashed back into sleep.


	5. All my exes work in engineering

"You're late, Mr. Data." Geordi put on the sternest demeanor he could muster. "These dilithium analyses are essential if we're to conclude our deal with the mine on time."

"I am sorry, Geordi. I was… detained." Data's obvious desire not to share the specifics only fuelled Geordi's teasing.

"Detained? You know any other member of the engineering crew wouldn't get away with such a vague excuse, Data. Are you saying your rank lends you extra privileges…" His friend's face exquisitely displayed the need to deny Geordi's implications, battling with the desire to keep the details to himself. Unable to maintain the charade any longer, Geordi clamped a hand on Data's shoulder and leaned closer to conclude, "…for early morning romance?"

Data stiffened. "That observation is excessively humorous, Geordi. In fact, I did not remember to express my amusement vocally."

Now Geordi was leaning on him in hysterics. A crew member cast a curious glance from his work station nearby.

"Data," Geordi gasped, "I think you mean 'it was so funny I forgot to laugh'."

Expressionless, Data observed, "I believe that is what I just said." He stood still as stone as Geordi managed to lever himself upright using Data's shoulder as a fulcrum. Finally he confronted Data with a straight face. It was hard to pull off a good joke when your straight man was so _straight_.

"You're getting the concept, Data, you just have to work on the syntax. Anyway, we have another 100 kilos of ore samples to test."

"Have we any more crew that may be assigned to assist?" Many of those on duty in engineering were now dedicated to working with security on the task of evaluating the Rhezar Dilithium mine infrastructure in order to develop an effective security system that would require little "live" management. The mine didn't have enough personnel to dedicate more than one or two entirely to security concerns.

Geordi looked a little more serious now. "Well I was meaning to talk to you about that… we do have a new crew assignment starting today. Not new really, she's been with us before but transferred out nearly three years ago and was restationed here a few days ago and only arrived yesterday. She's qualified to work on the dilithium ore analysis." Suddenly Geordi seemed supremely uncomfortable, as if figuring out how to express an awkward bit of information.

"Very well, Geordi. Please ask her to report to my station so I may brief her on the current status of the analysis."

"Well, Data, y'see, you should know that…"

Just then a voice familiar to them both preceded an equally familiar young woman as she bounded rather suddenly into the area. "Data! I'm so glad you're still here!" She stopped just short of the stunned Second Officer, obviously restraining herself from offering a more demonstrative greeting. Very little about her was different, but then it had only been a few years. Even her hair was styled in the same way.

Though none of Data's repertoire of facial expressions included "flabbergasted", the internal compilation of a new configuration of his features instantly rushed into his positronic net and the file could aptly be coded as exactly that: flabbergasted.

"Jenna?" A moment's gathering of positronic wits. If an android could gulp, the echo would have shaken the warp core.

* * *

"Thanks for seeing me on such short notice, Deanna." 

Troi ushered her into the comfortable office and Leo settled herself in her favorite cushy chair, though she didn't suppose she'd been her enough times to have chosen one yet.

"I expected I'd hear from you soon."

"You can bet my significant other, not to mention my even more significant _commander_, would see to that. Don't worry, though, I would've done it anyway. I think."

The counselor laughed. "For what it's worth I think so too. So how are you handling the events of yesterday afternoon? It was obvious to me you were very shaken up when I came to collect Lt. Jennings."

"How is he doing? Has he contacted any other family?"

One word, a gentle caution. "Leo."

"Okay, okay, we're not here to talk about Lt. Jennings. Well I guess you've assumed I got into it a bit last night with Data." Deanna suddenly sat a bit straighter, as if poked with something sharp.

"Leo? I sense something other than lingering distress."

"Well to be honest there is something else, but why don't we deal with the Lt. Jennings issue first, okay?"

"That's fine."

"Since yesterday I've settled it more in my mind. I know now I handled the situation as best I could, and the captain told me all about the special training you commanders get specific to crew mortality notifications. Makes sense, of course, they even had it for the military back in my day. I even have come to terms with my flashing back to Paul."

"I'd appreciate it if you'd let me in on it as well."

"Right, that's why I'm here. Or why _you're _here." Leo fidgeted a bit and changed position a couple of time. "I'm sorry, you know I'm not all that good at this."

"Just take your time and do it in your own way."

"Okay. Well what I told Data finally… he can be pretty insistent on my 'sharing' when he knows I'm upset… was that it reminded me of when I found out Paul had died, and I wondered if I looked the same then as Lt. Jennings did now. More to the point, I wondered if I looked changed, as if losing part of myself, and thought maybe I'd see that kind of change in Lt. Jennings' face, that it might clear up that question."

"Did it?"

"No." The knowledge didn't upset her as it did yesterday. "It bothered me at first."

"Was the question that compelling? Does this loss take up a lot of your thoughts and concerns?"

"I wouldn't say that. I just get blindsided once in a while, less often as time goes by. Sometimes it comes up in the form of bizarre questions like 'how did I look when I found out', 'how can I quantify the difference in my life before and after he died compared to before and after we met' and stuff like that. It's important at the time, in fact it can really freak me out, but it doesn't last long. Especially when I can talk about it out loud."

"With Data."

"Yeah, who else."

"Does Data help you find answers to some of those painful questions?"

"No, strangely enough. You know that old cliché about a sounding board, it just helps to hear my thoughts exist externally. Kind of like the difference between being in the dark and turning the light on? Same stuff is there both ways, but you can imagine it all sorts of ugly ways if you can't see it. Talking stuff out with Data kind of flips on the lights. Does that make sense?"

"In fact it makes a lot of sense. When left to our own devices we can allow our upsetting thoughts take on a life of their own."

"Yeah, and it's not as if there's always something there to _solve_, it's just enough that I can stop smacking myself with the loose ends that can't be tied up. It's okay to let 'em lie, I guess."

"I have to say I sense a calmness that seems natural, and wasn't evident yesterday. Whatever coping skills you've been developing seem to be working."

"I think I just make it up as I go along, and Data keeps me from stumbling off the cliff if I go too far."

Deanna was smiling. "That's one of the benefits of a healthy primary relationship… sort of a behavioral buddy system."

"Yeah, it is that."

"You mentioned 'something else'."

"Yeah, well, long story short. Data proposed last night."

Silence. Deanna clearly was juggling professional and personal interest.

"Actually he asked me if I am 'amenable to establishing a domestic arrangement similar to Miles and Keiko's'."

"And what did you tell him?" Oh dear, Troi thought to herself, how am I ever going to keep this clinical?

"I told him I was amenable. I am amenable. I also told him I hoped he knew what he was getting into."

Now she had laugh. "Come on, Leo, I'd say you don't require a warning label."

"Whatever, but he said he believes he's 'up to the challenge'."

Now Deanna appeared more seriously focused. "Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Up to the challenge."

Leo tossed her head and laughed. "Come on, Data and I know each other better than good. I've been living with him for a few months, we've established a mutual definition for our connection that makes perfect sense to us. I guess you could say between the two of us we've created a new paradigm for a primary relationship. We _had_ to, after all."

"But now you're going to be externalizing that paradigm by observing a formal tradition. Have you and Data considered how you might reconcile your entirely new definition of a loving relationship with a traditional definition that has managed to remain fairly constant for millennia?"

Leo wasn't liking the direction this was taking. "You mean, 'what will the neighbors think'."

"I'm thinking beyond the neighbors. Your friends will take great joy in yours and Data's decision, and your happiness. But others don't know you as we do."

"Then 'others' can keep it to themselves."

"Will you be prepared to cope with those who don't?"

"Counselor, in my time I've been called a nigger-lover, spic-lover, fag hag, and who knows what else. Every age has its small minds and smaller definitions of 'acceptable' personal associations. So I guess I've stumbled into the 24th century equivalent of an interracial relationship. Been there, done that."

Shaking her head, Deanna insisted, "No, Leo, you haven't. What you and Data have established isn't the equivalent of an interracial or even an interspecies relationship. You have broken entirely new ground even in this century. As you say, you've created an entirely new paradigm for a primary relationship."

Leo bristled. "So you're saying I'm making a mistake, _we're_ making a mistake to consider indulging in an admittedly narrow tradition? You sound like the anti-miscegenation preachers from 20th century Earth."

Deanna leaned forward, as if proximity could make her point clearer. "I'm not saying you're making a mistake. Forgive me, but I'm going to cross the counselor-patient line here for a moment, because Data is not only my colleague he is my friend. And you've become one, as well. I think what you and Data are considering is the next logical, loving step in what is obviously a positive relationship for you both. In fact I believe it's bringing out self-knowledge in Data that is benefiting him more than you think you understand. I can see it, having known him for so long. You haven't done magic, it's the fact that you connect to one another so naturally that has permitted your relationship to develop naturally as well. But you're on the _inside_, it's second nature to you. Even your inherent differences are something you've developed your own language and compensation for. Your friends accept it on the same level. But Leo you have to believe me, others will not. That doesn't make it a bad idea, or even an unwise one. It just means that you have to be prepared to defend that paradigm when the time comes."

"_Defend_ it? To whom? Who the hell did Keiko and Miles have to defend _their_ relationship to?"

"It's not the same."

"Bullshit. It's exactly the same. Maybe it's because my time's kind of prejudices are history to you, that it all seems so daunting."

"You don't understand," Deanna persisted. She was very concerned that Leo would wind up with Data in a no-man's land that she was entirely unprepared for.

"I _do_ understand. Outside of our comfy little Enterprise circle, and yeah even among some quarters within it, people see me as someone attached to 'not my kind'."

"It's more than that." The only metaphor she could think of was cruel, a leftover from Data's early confrontation with Captain Maddox of the Daystrom Institute. "People, some people, many, will see you as someone attached to a toaster. A computer with a human face, but not human. It's far beyond another race or species, Leo, even if none of us see it that way. I just want you to be prepared."

Leo throttled back her anger because she really believed that Deanna was trying to help.

"I _am_ prepared. I'm prepared to tell 'em all to fuck off if they can't deal with it."

It wasn't what she was hoping to achieve, but Troi acknowledged that like anything else this would have to play out however it may, and be dealt with along the way.

"All right, Leo. I'm sorry if I've disturbed you. We can discuss this later." When she saw Leo to the door, she embraced her before she could leave. "Congratulations, Leo, I mean it, to both you and Data."

"Sure. No harm done. Thanks. See you on the bridge."

She left to return to her quarters, her late-morning sleep still too short to compensate for the night before. Why did everything have to be so _complicated_ here? At that moment Paul's words echoed in her head, "When will you stop expecting things to be as _simple_ as you see them?"

Meanwhile in engineering, her computer with the human face was coping with some very human complications of his own.


	6. The positronic tango

Data brought Jenna D'Sora up to speed on the dilithium analysis in process, and scheduled her to begin duty on the next day's second watch. It would be beneficial to have reliable productivity available on a separate rather than a concurrent shift. In addition Data felt it would be wiser (and less awkward) for them not to work in close proximity. While he wished to remain absolutely professional, he realized it seemed unkind to behave as a complete stranger when in fact they were not. Deciding to remain in neutral yet congenial territory, after the business at hand was concluded he asked, "Lt. D'Sora, when did you decide to change your focus from security to engineering? It does not seem a logical progression."

With a rather too intimate smile for Data's comfort she told him, "Data, you can call me Jenna. We knew each other pretty well, after all."

"When we are on duty it would be best to address one another by our professional rank and titles. I hope you will understand."

"Of course, Commander." There was just a touch of disappointment beneath the formal reply. "The answer is after leaving the Enterprise I began to wonder if I couldn't find as much satisfaction, without risking life and limb, in another field. It sounds strange of course, but my interest in the 'mechanics' of music seemed to flow naturally into the notion of pursuing engineering. It only required another year's study at Starfleet Academy to earn my certification."

"That is not such a strange transition, Lieutenant. In fact I find my interest in science and computers links quite closely to my fascination with music."

Encouraged, Jenna took a step closer, but was careful not to encroach into a truly unprofessional physical zone. "I requested to be re-assigned to the Enterprise. I suppose I considered it home, in a way."

Data stepped back barely an inch, surreptitiously he hoped. "That sentiment is shared by most of her crew. It is why the ship's complement is so well coordinated; they are transferred only when absolutely necessary, and most seem to desire to spend their Starfleet careers on board the Enterprise as far as their desire and opportunity for advancement will permit. Again welcome back, Lieutenant. An officer of demonstrated skill is always a valuable addition to the crew. Commander Worf will be pleased to see you again."

"I already visited him. I was sorry to hear about the accident on Rhezar 2, but very glad he survived with just the injuries he received. I told him if I could help out with the security analysis in my off-duty time I'd be glad to assist."

The conversation lagged for a second; Data longed to get back to his work for more reasons than one, but Jenna suddenly declared, "You know I can't _believe_ that Captain Picard accepted the assignment of the first administrative exec in Starfleet! I'd have thought he'd have fought that one all the way to the top of the Federation High Council."

Data hadn't wanted to broach the subject of Leo just yet. While he couldn't be absolutely certain that Lt. D'Sora wished to re-establish any sort of personal relationship, he certainly did not want to mislead her into thinking he wished to himself. For the moment he decided to default to the obvious and not consider alternative scenarios. "Lt. O'Reilly is quite capable. She and the captain have worked diligently to create an administrative structure that will benefit the operation of the Enterprise. And Lt. Riker is thankful to be relieved of the additional duties that had begun to interfere with his original commission."

"Starship operations have definitely changed, I guess." She paused for a moment, and looked directly into Data's eyes. The memory of other occasions when she'd done so left Data with little doubt of her intentions. "I've changed too, Commander. I'm not the neurotic woman on the rebound you knew before. In fact I've been quite on my own since I left, and have a clearer idea of who I am and what I want."

"That is a positive development. Though I would not agree that you displayed signs of particular neuroses. You were merely uncertain of your direction."

"Dear Data, always so compassionate. You know I never did completely believe you were incapable of emotion, but since you believed it yourself there was no point in arguing. Are _you_ the same Data you were then?"

Oh dear. "My positronic network has been augmented by many new experiences in the intervening period."

"You know what I mean."

Oh dear, dear. He had no idea what to say next. After all, since he had initiated this personal conversation himself it would be difficult to claim it now was inappropriate to the setting without suggesting a more casual (intimate?) interaction.

"Commander! Can you see me for a minute? I have a question about the recent adjustment to this particle analysis program," Geordi called to Data from the other side of the engineering bay.

"Excuse me, please. We will speak again at another time. You are dismissed, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir." This time a smile accompanied the proper reply, as if in anticipation of that time. Data tried not to rush to Geordi's side as Jenna left for the turbolift.

"Yes, Geordi, what aspect of the adjustment is unclear to you?"

"None of it, Data. You just looked like you could use a rescue attempt."

"That was an astute observation." Data glanced uneasily in the direction of Jenna D'Sora's departure. "Thank you," he added.

"So what's she doing in engineering after three years away?"

"She explained to me that she wished to find a safer career path in Starfleet that would still address her interests, and chose engineering. She also confided that she requested to be re-assigned to the Enterprise, because it seemed to feel 'like home'."

Geordi was shaking his head in worried fashion. "I don't know, Data, this could get complicated."

"Actually, Geordi, the situation is quite simple. Once I explain to Lt. D'Sora that I am engaged to be married, she will realize that a professional relationship, or a platonic friendship of the type I share with you and my other crewmates, are the only possible avenues of interaction between us. She then will adjust her expectations accordingly."

Geordi was about to tell his friend he had _still _more to learn about women when he jerked up short. "Come again? When you tell her you're _what_?"

"Engaged to be married."

"Data, I thought your programming made lying impossible."

He cocked his head. "Why do you believe I am lying?"

If Geordi had functioning eyes they would be big as hubcaps and bugging out of his head. As it was he seized Data by the shoulders and shook him, startling his friend. "You mean you _proposed_, you rascal you?"

Data pulled away and shook his head to realign his internal gyroscope. "Why am I a 'rascal', Geordi? I merely suggested to Leo that we engage in a permanent and recognized domestic arrangement as have Miles and Keiko O'Brien. Is that not considered the behavior of a gentleman?"

"I'm sorry, Data. You're right. Proposing marriage to the woman you live with _absolutely _is the mark of a gentleman." The suspense was killing him. "And?"

"And?" Data echoed. He was still attempting to recover from the abrupt and surprisingly strong shaking.

"_What did she say??_" He reached for Data's shoulders again, but the latter dodged quickly with some alarm.

"She agreed that it would be a logical step in the advancement of our relationship," he explained, eyeing Geordi cautiously.

"You mean she said yes?"

"I believe that is what I just said." Incredibly, his android reflexes weren't quick enough to avoid Geordi as he slapped him heartily on the back with one hand, and shook his hand with the other. This time, however, it wasn't completely a surprise and his gyroscope was able compensate quite efficiently.

"Congratulations Data! It's about time! When's the happy day?"

"We have not discussed that yet."

"Well _whenever _it is, fully armed Cardassians couldn't keep me away."

Data now looked Geordi solemnly in the eye. "I had hoped, Geordi, that upon whatever date we decide to wed you would serve as my 'best man'. According to tradition, one's best friend should serve in that capacity. And I consider you my best friend."

Geordi's enthusiasm calmed down a bit, and was tempered with a warm smile. "And I you. I'd be honored to stand up for you, Data, whenever you and Leo decide. Have you told anyone else yet?"

"I have not, and I do not believe Leo has. We have not discussed that either. After we agreed upon the marriage itself," he paused, searching for a proper phrase, "we did not discuss the matter in further detail."

Geordi chuckled, understanding perfectly, and nudged Data playfully. "No wonder you were late for duty."

By the time Data returned to his quarters after completing another round of tests on another collection of dilithium samples, Leo was in a proper snit. Unfortunately, he didn't notice right away.

"I confided to Geordi our plans to marry. I did not think you would mind. He will not reveal the news to anyone else."

"Yeah, well after my discussion with Deanna today I'm wondering if it might not be a better idea to keep living in sin."

"Did Counselor Troi advise against our union?" He tried to keep up with Leo's mad pacing, but couldn't predict her erratic direction and didn't want to collide with her.

"Oh no, not at all, she thinks it's a marvelous idea and is certain all of our friends will agree. It's the _rest_ of the universe who'll think I'm marrying my toaster!"

Bereft of a response, Data stood still and shook his head slightly. "You do not have a toaster, Leo. And if you did have a toaster, why would you marry it?" Too late he realized that it was a rhetorical, if unfathomable, question.

"_I don't wanna marry my fucking toaster, Data!"_

Data correctly discerned it was a wise time to disengage. "Am I correct in assuming that you will explain your agitation at a time of your choosing?"

"Trust me, you'll be the _first _to know." Having recovered her temper for the moment, Leo pointed at the com panel on Data's desk. "And by the way, your girlfriend called. I didn't bother to answer. Wants to know if you'd be interested in meeting her in Ten Forward to 'catch up and move forward'." She then stood glaring at Data as he searched for a reply succinct enough to explain a complex situation (one he had never thought to relate to her, because he believed it finished) before she became angry again. He knew Leo disdained the notion of jealousy, and imagined her response must be related to his failure to tell her about Jenna D'Sora. It was an important omission, after all, considering their many and lengthy conversations about his potential for romantic relationships. Then again, it wouldn't be the first time Leo might have parted company with her dearly held -- or clearly stated, anyway -- beliefs. The fact that she'd accepted his proposal without hesitation was testament to that.

Suddenly Data perceived the situation at hand was decidedly human in nature, and the realization was at this moment enough to make him wonder why he'd ever aspired to it. At that disastrously inopportune moment, his combadge beeped.

"Data? Is the com panel in your quarters malfunctioning? You haven't replied to my invitation." Jenna. Data stood still as stone, his eyes locked on Leo's, his hand hovering motionless above his combadge.

"Oh _do_ reply, D," Leo purred, more in dark amusement than sarcasm. "I can't _wait_ to see what happens next."


	7. Reality check

"Data? Are you there?"

His eyes still on Leo, Data responded, "Yes Jenna, I am here. Would it be acceptable to meet in Ten Forward at 1930 hours?" That would give him forty-five minutes to explain the situation to Leo.

"Okay, Data. 1930 hours, see you then. I'll be at our old table."

"Very well. Data out." Leo had raised a single eyebrow. Data was somewhat relieved; this usually indicated humor, however dark. Much preferable to resentment.

"'Our' table? Maybe you _are_ the Don Juan of the Daystrom Institute after all."

"Leo. It seems an issue I believed was closed is not." He indicated the sofa. "Please sit down. I would like to explain."

She did so. The resentment that had been simmering inside her since her meeting with Deanna moved to the back burner for the moment. Of course Leo knew that Data could no more two-time anyone than he could pass a human physical. It just wasn't in his makeup. But the notion that he'd perhaps discovered in himself what she (okay, selfishly) assumed he'd found only with her bothered her a little. It was ego. It was stupid. And it was something she just couldn't be grown-up about. She knew about Tasha; that was different. That was undeniably unique and special. This little surprise sounded so commonly human Leo couldn't rise above a commonly human emotional response. Not jealousy, but envy. The former she considered a mental flaw based on the need for power, and thankfully it was easily squelched when the temptation flickered. The latter emotion, however, was plain regressive bitchiness. And _that_ she was entirely capable of.

"So?" she asked.

"Jenna D'Sora was posted on the Enterprise as a member of Commander Worf's security team. We became acquainted through our mutual participation in the ship's musical ensemble, and various work on cooperative engineering and tactical projects. During this time, Jenna experienced the difficult ending of her relationship with another crew member. In her distress she came to believe that a preferable relationship could be established between us."

"She went for you on the rebound?" Truthfully Leo found that to be understandable, a sweet, calm accepting friend in contrast to who knows what had happened.

Data had to pause for a moment as he accessed his language files. Rebound…a term related to team sports? The second definition appeared more appropriate, a colloquial expression denoting the impulsive entry into a new romantic relationship in response to the traumatic dissolution of another. "Yes, she did."

"But it sounds like something came of it. Unless it's all in her head? You think maybe she's gonna stalk you?"

He hadn't meant that at all and hastened to assure her, "No, Lt. D'Sora's mental health is quite stable." He was quiet for a minute. "We _did_ explore a personal relationship. I had never participated in a romantic arrangement, and had never experienced what humans describe as 'dating'. I had, however, considered the possibility of eventually finding a mate as others do. It seemed an agreeable suggestion, as Jenna and I had already established a friendship."

"So you and this Jenna D'Sora were 'involved', then. I don't get it, Data, when we first got together you seemed to be embarking on brand new territory. We talked so much about compensating for our differences. Are you saying that we're just continuing an experiment you began years ago?"

If ever Data were capable of stern objection, now was the moment. "Leora Eileen, our life here together is _not_ an experiment." Data spoke the words so firmly that Leo wondered if she'd actually offended him. "When Jenna D'Sora and I knew one another, I accepted her suggestion to begin a close personal relationship. It was no more or less 'experimental' than any human who decides to participate in such a relationship for the first time. I have never used humans and their emotional aspects as elements in a behavioral experiment, nor would I do so. I was intrigued by the potential that the relationship Jenna proposed might hold, and I learned from the experience when it was unsuccessful." He didn't wait for her to ask what he'd learned; he could predict the question well enough to answer in advance. "What I attempted to achieve failed because I was attempting to behave as a human. I accessed accepted behaviors and behaved accordingly by rote. Because Jenna required human emotion to sustain a commitment she found human behaviors, absent those emotions, entirely inadequate. She left the Enterprise shortly thereafter, though I do not believe it was solely as a result of the failed aspects of our interaction."

As she sat there feeling rather ashamed of her flippancy Leo realized that this experience had, in its way, affected Data's interpretation of the nature of personal interaction and bonding almost as profoundly as his brief and intense friendship with Tasha Yar. With Tasha he'd discovered that he was capable of forming a profound attachment when accepted on his own terms. With Jenna he learned the disastrous result of relying on human behavior alone where that acceptance was lacking. And Leo supposed the lessons learned (and after all being an android Data was capable of quantum leaps in understanding that would take a human years, or never, to achieve) had reached critical mass by the time they'd stumbled into each other's lives that day at the Academy. If Data were human Leo would have asked the embarrassingly predictable question of whether or not he had loved Jenna.

"Both Jenna and I pursued a romantic direction in our friendship for illogical and incorrect reasons. She sought comfort, and I…" he searched for a conclusion.

"You said 'why not'?"

He considered that, and nodded. "Yes."

"And by the time you and I met, had some things become clearer to you?" Oh lord, she hoped so. She _thought_ so, everything she knew about Data told her so.

"If they had not, I would not have continued as we have done." Now he reached out and touched her hair gently. "I would not have understood the purpose."

She couldn't stop herself. "What purpose do you understand now?"

"To share. My life, and my self, and to share yours in the same way. To become more than the sum of two individuals." He looked closely at Leo. "Is that a purpose you also share?"

"Yeah, D, it is. Tell me, was Jenna hurt very badly by this? I know you wouldn't have wanted that, not for anything."

"I believe Jenna, as I, realized the pointlessness of the relationship we attempted. I would like to think her initiation of its discontinuance indicated a lack of deep personal pain."

"But now she's back, and she believes you can continue."

"She finds herself changed, with more self-knowledge and understanding than three years ago. She assumes, rightfully, that I have undergone similar changes in myself."

Leo frowned. "But you didn't tell her about me, about us."

"I was… surprised. I have been uncertain how to proceed."

"So you're going to meet her to explain?"

"Yes. And I would like you to accompany me."

"Are you afraid she'll think you're lying, or decide you deserve better because I'm some bitch who isn't good enough for you?"

Data managed not to smile. "I believe it would be easier to illustrate the permanence of our life together if you are there. I do not know how determined Jenna is to rekindle our former relationship. I only know that she believes now that time has changed us enough respectively so that we would be able to do it the… 'right way'. From our brief conversation today I also suspect that she is considering the same 'analog' relationship as we have achieved."

"Uh-oh."

Data looked resigned to a difficult time. "I could not agree more." He took Leo's hand as she rose to make some tea.

"You have not explained your agitation."

"Not yet. I'm not ready to think about that just now." She drew away and got her tea things out, filled and set the chrome kettle on the direct-heat ring. Data rose and stood close by without getting in her way.

"Cara mia," he coaxed. She turned to face him.

"What did you call me?"

"'Cara mia'. It is Italian, and means 'my dear."

"I know what it _means_, Data, but why Italian all of a sudden?"

"I have viewed many films that explore the challenges of human domestic relationships. In several of these the Italian actor Marcello Mastroianni's attempts to placate his inamorata began with the words 'cara mia'."

Leo just stared at him. It seemed whenver she thought she had him almost figured out, he'd send one screaming in out of left field. "I give up, Data. How often did it work?"

"Quite often. The words were usually accompanied by some form of additional persuasion such as physical contact." He drew her to him abruptly with one arm around her waist, the other buried in her hair, obviously re-enacting a scene he remembered.

"Aha." She kissed him hard, not wanting to waste the scenario, but then told him, "I'm sorry, Marcello, but I just can't deal with it right now. I'll talk to you about it _after_ we untangle your past, okay?" Data released her immediately as if the projector had been switched off.

"Very well." He observed her as she filled the tea ball and arranged the honey jar, mug, and spoon in precise fashion. It occurred to him that if he pointed out her obsessive cooking habits she'd deny it energetically. "If you like we you can have tea in Ten Forward."

"It'll be replicated." She'd long ago admitted that the taste and texture of replicated food was nearly indistinguishable from the "real thing". Okay, if she didn't _know_ it was replicated she probably couldn't tell the difference except that she liked her own cooking better than anything. Just knowing it wasn't traditionally prepared was enough to put her off, and Data was attuned enough never to argue. Once he knew she understood the nature and principles of replication, he just let it go as a personal preference. Another of the lessons learned since his ill-fated connection with Jenna D'Sora: a successful relationship was as much (or more) about knowledge and understanding than mere behaviors, except where the former linked directly to the latter.

Leo poured the tea into the insulated "travel mug" she'd bought from a Ferengi trader. A rare antique, she was told, and she paid richly for it. But any small thing she could have to achieve a balance between present and past was welcome.

"Some value empty riches," Data had commented at the time, "things with no intrinsic value to them but the value attached by others. If such a simple thing brings you pleasure for such a substantial reason, there is no logical reason to question it. " She'd nearly burst into tears when he said that, much to Data's distress. It took a bit of explaining to convince him he hadn't upset her.

When they approached the entrance to Ten Forward, Data reached for Leo's hand. It wasn't a frequent gesture, and for all of Data's statements regarding lessons learned Leo realized it was an attempt to punctuate their relationship with a bit of PDA for Jenna's benefit. She put him off with, "Don't. We have nothing to prove, D."

Leo didn't know what she'd truly expected but the woman she saw didn't look anything like the obsessive young thing she'd imagined (against her better judgment, but she'd expected it anyway). She deliberately let Data lead the way, not to make a point but to avoid appearing confrontational, and over his shoulder she observed someone at least ten years younger than herself. Average height and build, with a pretty face that seemed to lend itself readily to smiles and laughter. No wonder Data had found her suggestion appealing. He was very drawn to laughter and lightness in humans, forever seeking its source and stimulus. While some women would feel a surge to see the Jenna's welcoming smile grow brittle at the sight of Data's companion, Leo couldn't manage to be one of them. Damn, she though, I don't _want_ to like this woman, I want her to be just a name on the personnel file like hundreds of others. But she was significant to Data, so that impossible.

Trying to minimize the discomfort of Jenna speaking first, Data began, "Jenna, I would like you to meet Leora Eileen O'Reilly."

"We've already met, when I first arrived."

Leo shook her hand anyway. "I didn't know we had a mutual friend then."

"I first met Leo while attending a seminar at Starfleet Academy, shortly after your departure from the Enterprise. She was then working for her certification, and I assisted her with warp technology studies."

Please, thought Leo, please make a nasty comment. A snide face. _Something_ that'll make me feel less empathetic. Be a bitch, so I can be one too. I'm so _good _at it.

It took Jenna a moment to absorb what she'd just heard. "I'm sorry, Data. I assumed you were… I thought maybe you were still 'single'."

"It was a logical assumption, Jenna. I did not speak of Leo during our first meeting in engineering. It did not seem appropriate to the situation."

"Of course." But she looked as if she didn't quite understand what she was hearing. The Data she had known, incapable of emotion and true connection, was firmly engaged in a relationship with a human?

The only recourse Leo could identify was honesty. "You should know that I'm as surprised as you are. He never mentioned you." Oh shit. What a cruel thing to say. "I mean Data's not one to tell tales, you know? He keeps the most important things to himself, like I do." If she floundered any more she'd be dangling on a hook from a 5 lb test line. Suddenly Leo felt like the fifth, sixth, and seventh wheel.

"Look, I have some work to finish." She answered Jenna's puzzled expression, "I'm sure you can imagine once Captain Picard got used to me, he got used to relying on me. I'm buried in work, 24/7. So I'll just head on back to our quarters and put in some O.T."

"Leo and I share quarters, Jenna," Data explained because Leo could not. "We are engaged to be married."

Now Jenna looked as if she _had_ been slapped. As did a number of fellow crewmembers who overheard. As did Guinan, who missed nothing. Ever. Though truth to tell, Guinan looked more smug than slapped. Leo rose and told Jenna, "It was good to meet you, I'm sure I'll see you again." Why not behave as if they might be friends? Friends of Data's had been friends of hers, so far anyway.

"Of course, Lieutenant." A pointed look from Data prompted, "Leo. Have a productive evening."

Leo had to admit as she exited Ten Forward, at what she hoped was a measured pace, she'd probably have been a whole lot less gracious if circumstances were reversed. Who was she kidding? She'd have been hell on wheels. Data certainly had moved up the relationship food chain from sweet to challenging.

Back at "their" table, Jenna D'Sora gazed intently at the man she once thought would be perfect for her.

"Well I guess I stand corrected. But tell me, Data, isn't she a bit over the usual age for a cadet?"

Leo would have been gratified to hear the bitchy edge in the lieutenant's voice.


	8. Stereo diplomacy

"You do not understand Lt. O'Reilly's circumstances." Data understood that Jenna was just as blindsided by events as Leo had been.

"Well you've made them pretty clear, though I had no idea you'd developed such a talent for cruelty."

"Cruelty?" Data was puzzled. He had certainly erred in failing to inform Leo of his history with Jenna, but couldn't perceive any unkind act toward Jenna herself. "What have I done that is 'cruel'?"

"Well waltzing in here with my replacement for one, with no warning at all."

"Leo is not your 'replacement', Jenna. You wished to discontinue our relationship three years ago. I agreed, and complied. You left the Enterprise shortly thereafter. There is nothing to 'replace'."

Jenna eyed the travel mug that Leo, in her haste to escape, had left on the table.

"What the hell is that?"

"It is Leo's jasmine tea. She prefers non-replicated refreshment."

None of this was making sense. "What is she, some kind of throwback?"

Data chose to ignore the sarcastic undertone and concentrated on the words. "Yes, in a manner of speaking." He waited to see if Jenna had another comment to make and when he was greeted with a blank stare, he continued. "As I stated earlier, I met Leo at Starfleet Academy while I was attending a seminar devoted to First Contact Diplomacy. Leo was pursuing her certification in Starship Administration. I first encountered her when she was having difficulty preparing for a test in warp technology. I offered my services as tutor, and she accepted. We became friends, and Leo was posted to the Enterprise upon her certification as part of the Starfleet pilot project launching the new crew designation. Since her arrival we have become quite close, and she has consented to make our arrangement permanent."

Jenna looked as though she didn't know how to respond. "Well it doesn't sound like you're any more emotional than when I first knew you."

Data shrugged. "I am no more capable of human emotion than I ever was. However, Leo and I continue to establish common ground."

"But that doesn't explain her getting certified at the age of… whatever."

"Leo's age in earth years is 37. Her relative chronological age is roughly 340 years." He explained Leo's arrival in the 24th century and her decision to attend Starfleet. While impressed with the story, Jenna did not look pleased.

"I don't undersand. You haven't changed inside since we were together. So how can you find 'common ground' enough to convince this woman to marry you? Is it that she's afraid of emotion like I used to be?"

He was shaking his head. "I do not believe I can make you understand. Leo and I have learned to redefine the dynamic of our relationship in terms that do not require identical responses from us. We have identified analogous interpretations and behaviors on my part that resonate with her emotional responses."

"I know you won't believe me, but that's the kind of thing I've had on my mind. I thought now that I have a clearer understanding of things, we could give it another try without all the angst. Data, I really believe deep down it's what was meant to happen in the first place. I was just too confused to know." She reached for his hand.

Data withdrew, as gracefully as he was able. "I am sorry, Jenna. I do not wish to hurt your feelings. The connection I share with Leora O'Reilly is unmistakable, and quite unique. It is a function of who we are individually, and what is between us is greater than the sum of ourselves individually. You and I will never know what was 'meant to happen' between us, because it did not."

They sat in silence for a moment, then Jenna said, "Data if I ask you something, will you try not to take it the wrong way?"

Determined to be fair and wanting to salvage what had begun, after all, as a friendship, Data responded, "You may ask me anything, Jenna. I will process your words as you intend them."

"Do you think you might want to play some music together sometime? I still play the flute, though I don't know what the population of the Enterprise musical types are nowadays."

"I am afraid there are few crewmembers who share your interest and talent sufficiently to wish to perform together. I would enjoy playing again. I have not had occasion to for some time."

Finally, Jenna smiled. "Just let me know when."

"Perhaps it would be wise for you to inform me when might be opportune for you, once you have become accustomed to your new post." Data added apologetically, "I am afraid that while Leo possesses a rare and eclectic taste for music, she does not play an instrument and so would be unable to join us."

"That's okay, Data. I'm sure we can find sufficient music for duets." She rose, smiling again. "We're not on duty now. Is there any protocol against hugging an old friend?"

"I do not believe so." Data stood and embraced her, glad she was harboring no ill feelings toward himself or Leo. He was, however, taken by surprise when she kissed him much as she had the first time. She left without further comment. Unbidden, Data's positronic synapses recalled what their first kiss had catalyzed and his preprogrammed curiosity considered how things might have progressed if, as she'd posited, they'd had the presence of mind to consider their differences merely differences and not obstacles. Of course no one could be certain. But it was an interesting avenue of contemplation.

As if on cue Guinan "drifted" toward the table where Data stood watching Jenna leave.

"Guinan," he was pleased to be able to share the positive outcome of the conversation. "Jenna D'Sora has sensibly revised her interest in our association from romance to friendship."

Guinan, who had seen Jenna's face throughout the conversation and had witnessed the kiss as well, warned, "You've become pretty good at reading humans, Data, but I wouldn't play poker with that one just yet."

Data cocked his head, baffled. "Poker? She has suggested we re-engage in our musical collaboration."

"I'm sure she did. Data, why don't you get the word out that the chamber ensemble is being resurrected? Something tells me duets aren't the way to go right now." She hated being less than straightforward, but didn't want to get involved in any elaborate discussion based on an impression. Even if it was more accurately described as a certainty.

"I believe that is a fine idea, Guinan. I will post a crew message on the ship's computer. I'm sure Jenna will be pleased. If you will excuse me, I must return to my quarters."

Guinan stopped him as he turned to go. "Data, did I hear you correctly? Are you and Leo planning to get married?"

A shadow of concern crossed Data's features. "Yes, you heard correctly. Do you disapprove?"

"On the contrary," Guinan was grinning her Cheshire-Cat grin. "I was going to insist on catering the reception!"

Data was greatly relieved to return "home" to nothing uncommon. Leo was fixing some homemade vegetable stew for her dinner (Keiko O'Brien had taught Leo the basics of hydroponic gardening and set aside some space for her vegetable garden), and Spot crouched scowling by her bowl daring Leo to feed her. Striped pajamas were nowhere in sight; Leo wore a purple velour sweatsuit that absurdly reminded Data of 20th century drawings of a creature called the Easter Bunny.

"So did you leave your ex crying in her beer?" Leo asked casually over her shoulder.

"Jenna does not drink beer."

"Don't be obtuse."

"I fail to see why you feel hostility toward her."

"I wouldn't call it hostility, Data." Leo put down her stirring spoon and turned to face Data where he stood a few feet behind her. "Call it caution. I just don't believe she's gonna be happy with the platonic idea."

"On what do you base your belief?"

"On the look in her eye, D. She was sizing me up as if I was an opponent."

"I believe you are wrong."

"You believe a lot of things I don't." Data raised an eyebrow. "Oh hell, I don't care what she had to say to you or how reasonable she seems. The fact remains that she showed up wanting to get back with you, and you don't just flip that off like switch."

"The 'fact remains'," Data told her as he stepped closer, "that you are here," he slipped his arms around her waist and stood looking down at her nose-to-nose, "and Jenna is not." Her eyes still harbored an edge. "Cara mia," he added and kissed her for good measure.

"You're shameless, Marcello, that's what you are."

"An android cannot feel shame."

"Well _that_ sure explains a lot." She kissed him back and pried herself away. "Turn me loose, I'm _starving_. And so's Catzilla."

"Spot will not learn to like you if you speak unkindly of her," Data frowned. "And you seemed to enjoy petting her last night."

"She's had months to learn to like me. She's either spiteful or retarded. But you're right about that petting thing. Hmm," Leo mused evilly as she set her dinner down and prepared to eat. "Maybe I could have her stuffed."

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. Leo managed to plow through most of the remainder of the personnel files and Data gave the latest dilithium analysis results a final review before sending them on to Geordi. By 10pm Leo was comfortably ensconced in bed tucked alongside Data who was sitting up and reading.

"I think it's cool you like to read real books, so many people around here just do the audio thing, or stare at the damn screen. I mean, you could just plug in and suck it right into your brain."

Data peered down at her. "Your characterization of my positronic processes is somewhat less than scientific."

"One chip-head in the house is enough, thanks. I prefer the esoterica of administrative alchemy."

"Explain?"

"Distilling order from chaos."

"Ah. A lofty goal."

"Tell me something," Leo sat up next to Data, suddenly serious. "Do you think you'll ever get bored? With me, I mean, with us. I mean it's not like I can keep up with you intellectually. Or in much of any other way. Won't you just, I dunno, leave me in the dust someday whether you want to or not?"

"You do not need to 'keep up' with me. We are not running a race."

"You know what I mean."

Data recognized the periodic manifestation of Leo's insecurity. It wasn't confined to questions about their relationship. From time to time even when things were going quite well she could inexplicably be convinced she'd somehow bluffed her way into her position and might soon be found out as a fraud. He dropped his book in his lap and put his arm around Leo.

"I cannot become 'bored' with someone who is a constant source of surprise and wonder."

"You mean you wonder why you wanted me here." She knew she was playing him and almost wished she could be ashamed. He was so good at reassuring her, though, and she didn't quite have the heart to imply he was tempted by Jenna. Even if she knew that Jenna was working overtime to tempt him. It was, she knew, an intuition he could never share via the most sophisticated analog they could construct.

"I mean I wonder what I will discover next about you. I am familiar with the human weakness known as jealousy. I never expected that you might be prey to it."

Busted. Leo tried to pull away and put on an indignant pose. "You _know_ what I think of that."

Android strength prevailed, and Data leaned around to look her in the eye. "I also know what you 'think of' the domestic arrangement of marriage. Yet you agreed that it would be an acceptable arrangement." The Forever Face appeared, defeating her more quickly than usual.

"Okay. _Okay_. I trust you completely, you know that, how could I not trust someone who's incapable of lying? Even if you _could_ lie I'd trust you. I just don't trust _her_. People in love do some pretty remarkable things, and convincing someone they've made a mistake is pretty low on their skills list."

"Androids cannot make mistakes."

When did he get so good at smartass? Leo growled, "AArgh! I swear sometimes you make me _scream_!"

Inspiration lit Data's features, and he tightened both arms around Leo. "I believe that is moderately high on my skills list… computer, soundproof. Lights out."

"Lights out. Soundproofing quarters," returned the monotone voice as Data sweetened Leo's mood the "old fashioned" way.

Meanwhile, news of Data and Leo's engagement flew through the Enterprise via corridor chatter. It didn't stop at the ship's hull. From the quarters of a newly assigned crew member a subspace message was being transmitted to Starfleet Command.


	9. Blast from the past

"Was I intended to be the last to know, Lieutenant O'Reilly?"

The captain had been on the bridge when Leo arrived at her watch, and now he stood in the doorway of her tiny office wearing, albeit unconvincingly, the wounded expression of someone who has been grossly insulted.

"Sir?" She had no idea what he was talking about. Her head was still a little fogged, as often happened on mornings after she and Data gave his subroutines – and her stamina – a workout.

"Corridor chatter has it that you and Mr. Data are engaged to be married? On my ship? And I was not informed?"

"Well I've been a bit busy, sir, I guess it slipped my mind." Certainly she'd been on board long enough to know the basic protocols, and couldn't recall anything relating to marriage arrangements between crew members. "Is there a problem? I mean is it against some dumbo rule to marry a superior officer?"

Picard could tell by the edge in her voice and the set of her posture that any such rule would be challenged in characteristic fashion. With a smile he assured her, "Certainly not, Lieutenant, I simply wish I could have congratulated you sooner on the happy news." He took her hand and shook it warmly. "And may I say there _is_ a 'dumbo rule' against not having the captain preside at the ceremony. _My_ dumbo rule."

Leo relaxed. "Well to be honest I'm still trying to get my head around it. I mean I've never been the world's biggest fan of marriage."

"For what it's worth I don't believe you could have found a better man to change your mind."

Since she and Data had let their intentions "slip" Leo was continually struck by the completely typical reactions of her crewmates, as if Data were just another guy and theirs a typical relationship. Of course she was more than ready to fight anyone who thought otherwise. "Thank you, sir. I'm in danger of being forced to admit I was wrong."

Picard's eyes widened in mock surprise. "I only wish we had the log recorder engaged to record _that_ for posterity."

Her smile tightened into a smirk. "Don't you have something captain-y to do, sir?" Leo inquired drily. Her console chimed, and she announced with some incredulity, "There's a hail for from the Rhezar Neutronium director, requesting a meeting."

"Now that _is_ a surprise. On my viewscreen, lieutenant."

"Aye sir."

The captain returned to his console as Leo attended to another hail, this time from Starfleet's Scientific Division. When engaged or unanswered, the captains communications console automatically rerouted to hers. Just like a freaking switchboard, she thought, some things never change. An officer appeared on her viewscreen, an admiral judging by his uniform, and he seemed very aware of the fact.

"Admiral Anthony Halftel," the computer announced, "Cyberneticist." Halftel… the name was vaguely familiar though Leo couldn't put her finger on why.

"Good morning Admiral. I'm afraid the captain is engaged at the moment. Is there something I can expedite in his absence?"

"No thank you, Lieutenant. Please give the captain my regards and tell him I await his reply on a matter of moderate priority." Kind of stuffy. Then again who in the upper echelons of Starfleet and the Federation was _not_ stuffy? It seemed to be a prerequisite for the higher command levels.

"As you wish sir. Any details I can pass along?"

"No. Please deliver the message and ask him to contact me as soon as possible."

"Yes sir." While it didn't seem like an emergency, Halftel's demeanor bespoke some urgency. "He'll be in touch within the hour, Admiral."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Halftel out."

By the time Leo reached the captain's desk he had finished with his conversation, and sat with a musing expression on his face as he stared at the fishbowl set in the wall. It hadn't taken Leo long since her arrival to figure out that was his "meditation point". Surrounded by endless expanses of blackness and stars (which served, always, as _her_ meditation point) it seemed sensible in a way that something more naturally accessible, like a big fancy fish doing its water ballet, might aid the concentration of someone like Picard.

"Earth to Captain Picard?" A joke she never tired of. His mind never "wandered", it just hovered in midair sometimes as he considered this or that weighty matter.

"Yes, Lieutenant."

"You received a message from an Admiral Halftel of the Science Division, cybernetics specifically. A matter of 'moderate priority'. Captain I know I've never met him but his name is very familiar."

"The Enterprise hasn't had contact with Admiral Halftel for several years. Perhaps you've heard him mentioned by a crew member." Picard decided then and there that it would be wiser not to mention the reason he'd come, or what had transpired, if Data hadn't seen fit to do so himself.

"Anyway he looked a little keyed-up so I told him you'd contact him within the hour."

An arched eyebrow. "How considerate of you to manage my activities so precisely, Lieutenant."

"It's why I get the big un-money, sir." Another favorite joke. When she was back at her desk, it suddenly crashed into place. "Halftel!" she nearly shouted, and sprang back into the main ready room. "Admiral _Anthony_ Halftel, the one that killed Data's daughter!" He had told her about it, in a remarkably philosophical fashion, though of course he had never even implied the admiral was responsible for Lal's neural failure. To Data it had been a case of unforeseen variables his own technological knowledge hadn't been able to overcome. Not a failure, merely a lapse in understanding.

"That will be enough of _that_, Lieutenant O'Reilly." Picard's annoyance was unmistakable. "The events at that time are something you have little knowledge of, regardless of what Data has told you. Hard lessons were learned by all of us, the admiral included."

"That's as may be, but you know yourself he had no more consideration for Data than for an assembly line worker building a new machine."

"He was disabused of that assumption by the time he left the Enterprise, I assure you."

Leo snorted. "Yeah, right. People are cured of abject ignorance and arrogance in mere days, of course." She thought for a moment. "I wonder what he's after now… maybe he's heard that Data's formed a 'primary relationship' and he's drooling over another research project. Hah, maybe he'll wanna take _me_ away and study me to find out what an android sees in a human. Like to see him try. Halfwit." She fairly spat the words.

Picard warned sternly, "That will be all, Lieutenant. Your rank doesn't permit you to discuss command matters."

Oh, great. Pulling rank. How nice. The fact that he rarely did it except when she was truly in the midst of forgetting herself didn't register. "But captain, you have to wonder,"

"_Dismissed_."

"Yes sir," and Leo grumbled as she returned to her "garret", "I know, I'm _so_ _totally_ dismissed."

Lord, this "administrative godsend" would be the death of him, Picard thought as he sat down again. There were times he honestly wondered if the advantages were worth the aggravation.

"Admiral Halftel, Jean-Luc Picard. Sorry I missed your hail. How can I assist you?"

"Captain, it's been some time. I hope all's well on the Enterprise." Leo had been right, even his niceties seemed a little forced.

"A bit of a mining dispute on Rhezar 2, but we expect that to be settled soon. I'm told you have a matter of some priority to discuss?"

"Yes, captain. I appreciate your getting back to me so quickly. I've received a rather surprising communication regarding your Commander Data."

Picard was taken aback. "Nobody from this ship was authorized to contact Starfleet regarding Mr. Data or anything else for that matter. There's been absolutely nothing out of the ordinary to report, and as Data's commanding officer I'd appreciate knowing both the origin of the communication and its substance."

"I'm afraid I don't know the origin, it came to me by way of Starfleet Command. Its substance, however, is a matter of some concern."

What the hell was he talking about? Picard was beginning to recall how very little he liked this man. "And that substance is?"

"I've learned Commander Data intends to marry a human crewmate. Is this true?"

By god, she was right. At least partly so. He decided to play dumb for the moment. "I only just learned the news myself. If you'd like to offer your congratulations, I'll be happy to pass them along."

No change in the grim demeanor. "May I ask which crewmember is involved?"

Involved. He was making it sound like a transgression. "I see no reason why not. My administrative exec, whom you spoke to earlier."

"Lieutenant Leora O'Reilly. She's the one who came here from the 21st century and managed to graduate from the Academy."

He'd done his homework, apparently, and Picard was not liking his tone. "Lt. O'Reilly _managed_ quite a lot in a short time. We on the Enterprise consider ourselves lucky to have received the first such assignment from the Academy. She has become quite valuable to ship's operations." Why did he feel like he was defending her, or that he needed to? Finally he just asked bluntly. "Does Starfleet have some question regarding the relationship between two consenting adult Starfleet officers? Lt. O'Reilly serves under my immediate command, not Commander Data's. There is no question of conflict."

"That's not the question at all, Captain. We're speaking of an unheard of occurrence."

Halftel always was a bit melodramatic, Picard thought with some amusement. "Admiral, surely you're aware that interspecies marriage has long been commonplace."

"And as Commander Data's commanding officer, surely _you_ are aware that as an android, he is not a 'species'. He is an artificially created inorganic being. There's no precedent for this, no basis in any known sociological construct, for the marriage between an organic life form and a machine."

Not bothering to address the gross insult to the committed relationship between two of his valued officers, Picard's voice nonetheless chilled several (dozen) degrees as he replied succinctly, "Then perhaps, Admiral, it's time one was established." He could see what was coming, but this time nobody would be caught by surprise. He found it unbelievable that after the precedents already established regarding artificial life forms, and their rights as free beings, that their right to form relationships with non-androids could even be a serious consideration.

"Starfleet has authorized me to rendezvous with the Enterprise in two days. I have their full authorization to study the situation."

"We'll be ready for you, Admiral." Picard's tone was unmistakable. It said: you'd better bring along some body armor this time.


	10. Polishing doorknobs

"Counselor Troi, please report to my ready room at your earliest convenience."

"Troi here, Captain. Is there a problem?"

"Nothing immediate. I do need to consult with you, however, on an important matter. Not an emergency, but as soon as you can manage would be appreciated."

"Very well, sir. I can be there by 1300 hours."

"Thank you, Counselor. I'll be here."

Though instinctively poised to oppose every interference he expected from Anthony Halftel, Picard was at a loss how to approach the targets of the impending "study". Leo's first response would undoubtedly be one of anger. Since the "interest" of Starfleet would not be considered by her or many others, in fact, as reasonable it was certain she'd not be inclined toward any logical approach. The latter would be Data's response, or so he hoped. Remembering the events of Starfleet's intervention in Data's creation of Lal would not be likely to guarantee cooperation, regardless of Data's tendency toward dispassionate thought. Calm refusal could be expected, in contrast to Leo's more aggressive reaction. Given these probabilities, he required Deanna's input. Picard was no counselor. While supporting the best interests of his crew, he was ill prepared to channel the righteous opposition of Data and Leo in a direction that might work to their benefit.

As 1300 hours approached, the captain realized that his discussion with the counselor would best be accomplished minus Leo's observant presence. "Lieutenant, a word please."

Leo appeared, as always, immediately. He regarded her for a moment in silence, realizing that in spite of his occasional protestations of annoyance he'd actually become quite accustomed to her willing assistance. She'd certainly proved her worth both to him and the Enterprise at large, and in spite of her habitual irreverence he'd come to recognize he could depend on her to execute any order regardless of her personal feelings and against all opposition. Though he could count on her speaking her mind at a (slightly) more appropriate juncture Picard had to admit, even if she'd deny it to the death, Leo was professional to the bone when it counted most. The arrogant questioning of what Picard knew to be the most grounded center of her challenging existence here was most disturbing. That it also included Data, whose rights he'd had to defend far more than should be necessary, added to his displeasure.

"That word, captain, sounds like?" she tugged on an earlobe in a burlesque of "Charades".

"I'd like you to go down to Engineering and assemble a report of the progress of the dilithium analysis. It will be useful to assemble documentation of the procedure for similar Starfleet acquisitions."

She could smell the bullshit a mile off, but sensed a direct approach would be ill-advised. "Sir? You've done this dozens of times, you mean nobody has ever standardized the procedure?" Hell, all they'd need to do was download from Data's neural net.

"I believe your approach might be more 'user friendly'." She'd often protested that training manuals had been designed by tech specialists without an eye to end users. This might prove an opportune time to encourage her in that direction.

"Okay, captain. You're the boss. When should I commence the 'documentation'?"

"1300 hours would be convenient."

"Yes, sir. Any particular format you're looking for?"

"Whatever you feel would be most useful to new crewmembers, Lieutenant. It's time we had some source materials available to the uninitiated. "

Leo had often raised the suggestion, but its sudden appearance in the captain's agenda was puzzling. Oh well, don't look a gift horse, she figured. When en route from the ready room she crossed paths with Deanna she took no particular notice.

"He wants you to what?" Geordi was as puzzled by Leo's "assignment" as she was.

She dumped her voice recorder and tricorder on Geordi's console and repeated, "Document the analysis process. Yeah, I know, all he has to do is copy it from Data's net, since he developed it. I'm telling you, Geordi, I feel exactly like I did when I was a little kid and Ma sent me to polish the doorknobs or something, just to get me out of the way so she and Dad could discuss 'serious matters'."

"The captain's not one to waste time on busy work. Maybe it's something classified?"

"Nah, when that happens he _tells_ me and I just link up from my quarters until he clears me to come back. Besides, my security clearance has been raised a couple levels in the past six months. Only the really high level tactical and Federation planning stuff is beyond me. And he tells me, every time."

"Well maybe you'd just better go ahead and do what he asked you to do. I don't know how we're going to explain it to Data, though."

"Maybe we won't have to. Where is he right now?"

"He's in the geology department, marking the ore sample sets with their result code tags. It's gonna take him a while to get through the couple hundred batches we've done so far."

"Okay. Hand over your logs and I'll get to it." She sighed as he set her up at an adjacent console, and asked idly, "Geordi, what do you know about Admiral Anthony Halftel?"

Geordi reacted as if he smelled something bad. "Halftel? I haven't thought of him in a long time, not that it was ever a favorite pastime. Hasn't Data mentioned what happened?"

"Yeah but not too deep. He was pretty, well, you know, _Data_ about it. Facts and figures, the general picture of how hard it was for everyone. How he'd refused to cave in, and the captain wouldn't either. What he might do differently if he makes another such attempt in the future. He didn't really have a whole lot to say about Halftel himself, except that he clung pretty hard to his 'faulty conclusions'. An accident of bad judgment, or something. You know how Data is. He can never call an asshole an asshole."

Geordi shook his head grimly, remembering. "He'd have had to get in line. If you're wondering if the guy was ambitious, I think it goes without saying that everyone connected to anything in Scientific is ambitious, even more than the military types. Cybernetics especially, everybody's all crazy to make an army of Datas."

"I did hear _all_ about the Maddox incident. Mostly because Data was so impressed by the fight everyone put up for him. And I think he was offended, if that's possible, by Maddox's sloppy science. He takes faulty methodology a lot harder than faulty conclusions based on no methodology at all."

"Why do you bring up Halftel? He hasn't shown his face around here since he butted into Data's life with Lal."

Leo was beginning to consider more carefully the flippant suggestions she'd made to the captain regarding Halftel's possible interest in Data's recent life. She'd been mouthing off about his earlier interference in things, not really believing what she said. Now she wasn't so sure. "Geordi, do you think he'd get all motivated by Data's new talent at primary relationships? I mean, if Halftel knew Data had developed to another level would he maybe come back and insist on 'studying the phenomenon' to use at Daystrom, or wherever?"

Geordi could hear the tension gathering under her words. "I don't know, Leo. I wouldn't worry too much about it though. Starfleet gets regular downloads from Data's neural net so they can keep up with his development without having to get directly involved. Why would they bother sending Halftel back here?"

A cold twist was forming in Leo's gut. "Because what's been happening with Data and me is more than synaptic enhancement. In fact it's not really an issue of positronic development, it's more personal adaptation. A paradigm shift that entirely redefines android capabilities."

"Don't you mean Data's capabilities?" Geordi didn't want to consider what Leo was suggesting, any more than she wanted to.

"Well he's all they have, isn't he? So Data _is_ 'android capabilities'. Whatever advancements he achieves would be extrapolated to cybernetics in general."

"Look there's no sense getting all wound up about it. Maybe it's something entirely different. Anyway you won't know until the captain clues you in, and he may not bother. Leo? Are you listening?" She was staring at some point in mid air and Geordi snapped his fingers in front her face.

She turned haunted eyes to him. "Shit, I hope you're right. I _want_ you to be right. But if you're not, I gotta wonder who got Halftel stirred up? I mean the downloads Starfleet gets on schedule are concerned with very specific aspects of Data's neural functioning and development. It's not like they literally read his mind or copy all his memory files."

"I don't know, Leo. You might be getting worked up over nothing, like I said. You'll just have to wait and see."

"Well you'll excuse me if I say 'no news is good news' doesn't usually apply in Starfleet."

Geordi smiled reassuringly and patted Leo's shoulder. "_Relax_. And get those doorknobs polished."

Leo had to smile in return. It was always hard to stay worried when she talked with Geordi. He was just so casually take-it-as-it-comes. She used to be like that, she remembered, before she turned her own life upside down. Even after two years in this new world it was hard to appreciate every unknown as a learning experience, because some of the things she'd learned here she'd have done quite nicely remaining ignorant of. Not many, but just enough to keep her from complacency. Geordi was right, though, no sense getting all wound up unless she had something to get wound up over.

* * *

"I can't believe that Admiral Halftel is considering interfering in Data's life again." Deanna couldn't for the life of her imagine why he would. 

"Oh he's not only considering it, he's arriving in two days. And I have to find some way to tell two of my officers that their devotion to one another has made them the target of a prejudice we'd all thought had been laid to rest years ago." He slammed a fist on the table, making Deanna jump. "How many times, Counselor, how many times can they declare oh yes, you're right, he has the same rights as any other autonomous being, and then discover _one more_ exception to that rule? How many times must a man be forced to prove he deserves the rights his friends and colleagues take for granted?" When Deanna didn't respond he continued more calmly. "I know, rhetorical questions won't accomplish a thing. I need your input, Counselor, I need to know how to frame this situation in a way that will allow Data and Leo to confront it rationally and not simply oppose it recklessly, which would be absolutely pointless."

"I think you're talking about Leo, not Data."

"Yes, well, we all know she has a very different perspective on the occasional hypocrisies of our 'enlightened' 24th century. And she became accustomed in her time to the notion of direct intervention and opposition, not negotiation, in certain elemental matters. I suspect it wouldn't be beyond her to haul off and punch Halftel in the mouth rather than develop the kind of legal approach we've used in the past."

"Captain, everyone has inside of them a line to be crossed that triggers that direct response, and overpowers any inclination to behave 'appropriately'. But you're right, Leo's background puts that point of no return out of synch with the world she's joined. I've tried to encourage her to prepare herself for the possible negative reaction she and Data might encounter from those who simply won't understand their connection. So far her only response has been a combination of denial and rage."

An odd smile crossed Picard's face. "Y'know, sometimes I'm sorely tempted to consider the possible positive effect of a solid punch in the mouth in a situation like this, myself." Deanna's eyes widened in alarm. "Relax, I said 'tempted'."

"It appears Leo has had something of an influence on you."

"It does go two ways, Counselor. But bad habits notwithstanding, I'd appreciate it if you could give me a hand in preparing Data and Leo for the coming siege."

"You really think it's that serious." This was a personal and not a professional question, and Picard knew it.

"You didn't hear Halftel this morning. He speaks of Data and Leo's decision to marry as if it's an offense against nature."

"And he has Starfleet's support?"

"Apparently. He said he's fully authorized to 'study the situation'. I can't wait to see what _that_ will entail."

"Captain, not that it matters, but how did Admiral Halftel hear that Data and Leo decided to get married?"

"I have no idea; he didn't say except that the information 'came to him'. And on the contrary, it matters very much indeed, and I intend personally to find out who has decided that the private lives of my crew are a fit subject for subspace communications to Starfleet Command. But for the time being…"

"When would you like to meet with Data and Leo?"

"The sooner the better. Unless I miss my guess Lt. O'Reilly is wondering, even as we speak, why I wanted to get rid of her for the past half hour."

* * *

"He wanted to get _rid_ of me, D. This is _such_ a lame excuse too, does he think I just blew in on the supply shuttle?" Abandoning her bullshit "assignment", Leo had tracked down Data in the geology storage area. 

"Do you mean you did not 'just fall off the cabbage cart'?"

"Don't start, okay? Something's going on and I think it has something to do with that Admiral Halfwit guy."

"Admiral Halftel," Data corrected.

"I like my version better. But yeah, him."

He thought for a minute. "There is no reason for the admiral to have returned. I have engaged in no new projects or experiments that would interest the Daystrom Institute."

"Are you sure? Think about it. What's totally different in your life since that last time Halfass came to town."

Data frowned disapprovingly at the additional inappropriate nickname for the Admiral. "I have attended several seminars to further my diplomatic abilities. I have mastered a number of new card games. I have memorized fifty-two humorous stories, and assimilated a great many 'smartass' responses into my memory files, though I have not yet developed the degree of finesse necessary to implement them all effectively…" he would have gone on but Leo grabbed him around the neck and kissed him, hard. He regarded her in perplexed silence.

She gestured wildly. "_Hello?!_ Notice anything different? Like maybe Catzilla was your _only_ roommate the last time this Half" – here Data's approximation of a glare rerouted her – "tel invaded your life?"

"Do you believe that Admiral Halftel's interest in me has been renewed by a discovery of our relationship?"

"Unless he's collecting funny stories."

Now Data's expression grew serious. "It does not seem possible that Starfleet would engage in yet another 'study' of me." His inflection of "study" would drip sarcasm in the mouth of a human.

In spite of what trouble might be on the way Leo couldn't help but smile wickedly and sidled close to Data. "I've always wanted to have a 'forbidden love'." He blinked at her as if she were mad.

Their combadges beeped simultaneously, startling even Data.

"Picard to Commander Data and Lieutenant O'Reilly, please report to my ready room."

Oh, shit, it was starting already. As they walked together to the turbolift Leo reached for Data's hand.

"Please try not to worry," Data encouraged her and gave her hand a squeeze.

"Worry, hell," she snapped back and announced "Bridge" as the doors slid shut, then looked Data in the eye. "Your Admiral Halftel doesn't _want_ to fuck with me."

But Data heard the tremble beneath the bravado, and took her hand again as the turbolift arrived on the bridge.

"I would love no other," he promised.

Leo wondered how those five simple words could engender the kind of reaction Deanna had warned her about. The truth was she didn't _want_ to know, but finally was beginning to understand she may not have a choice.


	11. As Birnam Wood advanceth

Data was clearly surprised to see Counselor Troi waiting with Captain Picard in the ready room.

"Counselor… I was not expecting you to be present."

As they took seats close by Deanna, who was seated next to the captain's desk rather than across from him, the lopsided arrangement seemed to avoid a sense of opposition.

"Please tell me we're gonna talk about the Rhezar mining conflict," Leo attempted to joke lamely. Picard's expression progressed from pained to distasteful and back again.

"I'm afraid you probably already have an idea what this is about. This morning Admiral Halftel contacted me with questions regarding your intention to marry."

For once Leo couldn't manage to come up with a smartass answer. This was beyond belief. Data, on the other hand, questioned quite plainly, "I cannot imagine what concern of the Federation Science division our plans to marry might be, captain. What questions did he have that he would ask you instead of myself or Leo?"

"C'mon, D, you should know by now that at least half the time we're the ones who are talked _about_, not _to_. Though I suppose I should be grateful not to be annoyed by this admiral in person," Leo cut in before the captain could reply.

Picard shifted uncomfortably and cut a glance at Troi. She stepped in.

"Admiral Halftel has been authorized to rendezvous with the Enterprise in two days to investigate the situation."

Data and Leo exchanged a meaningful look, then he turned his attention to Picard and Troi. "Then it is evident my success in establishing an intimate primary relationship has commanded his attention, much as my creation of an offspring did before. Considering the outcome of his previous investigation of my activities, I cannot imagine what he hopes to accomplish by yet another inquiry." Without betraying a hint of irony Data's words nonetheless made the captain and the counselor supremely uncomfortable. Once again Leo addressed Data, ignoring the other two.

"You can't imagine? Then let me imagine for both of us. Admiral Halftel is coming to 'investigate' how an android can achieve and maintain a successful committed relationship with a human female, in every traditional sense of the word _minus_ human emotion, and thus accomplish a positronic paradigm shift that makes your attempt to be a father pale in comparison. The short answer is you've exceeded your design specifications and it's driving them crazy." Suddenly she nailed Picard with a dead-on stare. "Would you agree I'm close to the mark, sir?"

"He didn't say so in so many words, but that sounds about right. "

"I sense a growing hostility, Leo," Deanna interjected, "It might be best to approach the admiral reasonably, to convince him he's wrong and that the Federation's concerns are misguided."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "'Reasonable'. Right. Don't shrink me, Counselor. 'Concerns'? What the hell kinds of 'concerns' can they possibly have, when it's none of their goddamn business? Are they _concerned_ that Data's interpersonal development might be a breakthrough that the Daystrom Institute may be unable to quantify, and thus be unable to profit from? I'm not blind, folks, it's quite clear that the ancient currency of filthy lucre has been swapped in this century for power and reputation and on that score the Federation is an avatar of avarice." Abruptly she wearied of being clever and continued in frustration, "All I've heard since I got here is how _enlightened_ everyone is in the 24th century. Well from what I've heard it seems that androids are just the latest unlucky race to be sent to the back of the bus." Her reference to the American Civil Rights movement wasn't lost on any of them.

"No, Leo, this is different." Even if he disagreed with the Federation's interest and would oppose it, Data thought he could see from where it arose. After all, he _was_ a machine, no matter how uniquely sentient and self-aware, and Leo was human. It would be very difficult for most organic life forms to comprehend.

Data's comment nearly brought Leo out of her chair and he reached a hand out to grip her arm and try to calm her. She shook him off, but fell back in her seat as she rolled her eyes toward the ceiling and shook her head as if hearing something she'd expected all along. "Well there we are. The three magic words that every hypocrisy in history depends upon: 'This Is Different'." Blank stares all around. "You really don't get it, do you? Every time some 'enlightened' soul comes up with a reason to exclude someone from the rights he enjoys it's 'different'. Meaning here's the line drawn in the sand. Sure Data, you can live your life, and do your job, and go and think and do what you please. Why, because you have the same inborn intrinsic rights as organic life forms? Hell no, because they LET you. And as long as you remain _within_ the solid parameters we're too polite to describe aloud, you may be _granted _certain freedoms enjoyed by everyone else as a birthright." She addressed Troi and Picard now, her level voice at odds with her obvious agitation. "For christsake, do you really think the powers that be at Starfleet Academy were entirely unaware of what was happening with Data and me? News travels, or is that a surprise too? It was okay for us to play at going steady, it was fine for the human female to get her jollies with her life-size electric friend, but marriage? This is _different._ I've been choking on those three goddamn words for too long. Oh, _we_ know you've scored well enough on your tech exams to pass, Leora, but your situation makes it _different_, so you're going to have to sit an extra set of exams." All three of the others appeared surprised as Leo went on. "I know the Catholic funeral mass is supposed to honor the life and faith of the departed and his loved ones, but you must understand we can't mention them because your friend was homosexual. It's not really denying Christian love. This is _different_. It's always different, but it's always the same, centuries don't mean a thing. Play at enlightenment, but you'd better not shine that circle of light _too _far. There is a limit, after all, a limit to inclusion, a limit to decency, a limit to free speech, a limit to human rights. A limit to enlightenment."

Finally Deanna spoke quietly. "You know that tendency is based upon fear of what people don't understand."

"I'll tell you what they're afraid of here. The all-wise and enlightened humans are _afraid _that they're losing the wall between 'them' and 'us' and they're just a little edgy about the comparison. After all, if an android can establish a committed relationship that fulfills every highly celebrated aspect of 'love' while remaining virtually untouched by things like jealousy, infidelity, selfishness, and who knows what other hormonal failings, then how will humans excuse themselves for being _un_able to do the same thing? So much for organic superiority. You're showing them up in some very itchy ways, Data, and they're looking for a reason to stop it."

When Data spoke, it was with agreement touched by disappointment. "But when Lal began to surpass my knowledge and abilities, I encouraged her. I did not wish to maintain my 'superiority'."

"There you go again. Making humans look bad by comparison." She turned accusingly to Picard. "Can you honestly say that this has nothing to do with what Halftel's coming here for? The Starfleet proprietary attitude is being threatened in a new and different way."

Picard was shaking his head. "Long before you arrived, attempts were made to define Data as less than he is. In both cases his rights as a free being were firmly established."

"Yeah, _after_ he was put in his place they cut him a break. He was told he was property and sat through testimony and insult before he was grudgingly granted quasi-human legal status. He lost his daughter, who was never actually defined as such by anyone of Federation note, but her death made the entire argument of her upbringing moot and gave Starfleet and the Federation a nice opportunity to bask in their own sympathy while basically showing Data who's the boss. It doesn't hurt as much to raise someone up if you've put them down far enough to begin with. Humans are _born_ with rights, according to the enlightened powers that be. But Data was merely granted them, like some sort of good conduct reward. Apparently nobody expected him to take them _too_ seriously." Still she hadn't raised her voice, but Deanna sensed a boiling rage.

"I hope you will count us as exceptions to that," the captain noted.

"That remains to be seen." She turned to Data and gripped his hand. "You feel this, don't you? You feel more than my hand and temperature and texture, you feel our _connection._ God, Data, I know better than anyone your entire life hinges on understanding things, behavior, phenomena, cause and effect. And when you're in conflict with others you want to help them understand that there needn't _be_ a conflict."

"You have said you consider it to be a cherished part of my character." They were speaking as if they were alone in the room. "Is it no longer?"

Leo squeezed his hand as hard as she could. "It won't ever stop being that. But just this once, just for _us_, I need you to forget about understanding others and educating them, because in this case they aren't worthy of it. This isn't ignorance, it's denial of reality. What we have between us isn't a privilege, or even a right, it's _reality_ that came from who we are. To question it is nothing but stupid."

"And 'there is no cure for stupid'," Data offered one of Leo's own sayings in reply.

"Exactly. Stupid can't be corrected, it can only be ignored as irrelevant."

Picard reacted to this with some concern, looking again at Troi before speaking. "Lieutenant, as distasteful and pointless as it seems you and Data will be required to cooperate with Admiral Halftel's inquiries. You may count on me to be opposing this all the way to the high council. The wisest course is to mount a challenge within Starfleet's own protocols."

"_Fuck _'protocol' and cooperation. I will _not_ sit at the back of the bus while you explore bureaucratic judo holds. I've had enough. How's that for three words to trump 'this is different'?? I've. Had. Enough. Admiral Halftel can expect no cooperation from me."

"Do you speak for Mr. Data as well?"

Now Leo leaned forward and responded with an intensity that disregarded every aspect of rank and position, "He is his own man. Or have you _entirely _missed the point?"

When Deanna spoke to break the tension it was as if the other three had forgotten she was there. "Leo, you have to be careful not to hurt your cause."

"I have no 'cause', Deanna. I have reality, _we_ have reality. Maybe I'm channeling Rosa Parks, and I'm just too goddamn tired and fed up to move."

"Rosa Parks was guided and supported by a large coordinated effort," Data reminded her. "We are not."

The look on Leo's face was utterly defiant, yet even Troi could sense no lack of awareness of the nature of the Federation's intentions. And power. It just didn't seem to matter.

Leo smiled sadly at Data. "Maybe not. But if I go down solo, I promise you a hell of a show." Now it was he who reached for her hand, and squeezed gently.

"You will never 'go solo', Leora Eileen, not so long as I am here. And I will always be." He faced the captain and Troi.

"However unintentionally, Leo has spoken for both of us. We will not cooperate with the admiral's 'inquiry'."

Picard considered this. Nobility, he knew, was useless against the Federation and Starfleet interests even if it was to be admired. But nobility wasn't the issue here. He recalled his tirade when fighting the Borg as he and his crew were struggling to assure Zefram Cochrane of a successful first contact. They attack, we fall back. With something more metaphysical than lives at risk, perhaps that rage to resist might be much more appropriate to the current situation.

"Data's right, Leo, you don't have the righteous force of well-led thousands behind you," he began, and the look of disappointment on Leo's face was painful to see until he continued, "but with some luck and creativity maybe all you'll need is the commander of the Federation flagship." Leo's eyes narrowed, and Data looked both fascinated and impressed, but neither spoke. Deanna sat up straighter, questioning Picard silently.

Picard went on, as if having come to a new decision. "Cooperation assumes there is some nugget of reason to be addressed. On careful consideration," meaning the substance of their conversation, "I can see none here. Rights _are_ intrinsic, not 'granted' by others. And they are neither negotiable, nor subject to review. Whatever decision you two make regarding the Admiral's visit, as your commanding officer you will have my full and unqualified support, all the way to the Federation High Council and beyond."

Deanna observed, "Captain, there _is_ no authority 'beyond' the High Council."

He smiled wryly. "Not yet, perhaps."

Picard hadn't "granted them authority", or "given them permission". He'd told Data and Leo he had their backs, whatever happened. The distinction was enormously important, and Troi noted that the fear and hostility that had been fairly buzzing in Leo since her arrival was cut off as if by a switch and had been replaced with a humility born of the realization that she couldn't be sure of having made the same decision as the captain, had their positions been reversed. Leo stood and leaned across the desk to offer her hand, which Picard took and held firmly.

"I knew there was a reason I hung around here," she told him before releasing his hand and sitting down again.

"I, too, am grateful for your support captain, though I cannot say that I am surprised by it. I understand," and here Data cast an uneasy look at Leo, expecting a reaction, but failed to see one, "the gravity of this decision given your rank and position in Starfleet."

"Mr. Data sometimes that rank and position inflicts the sort of amnesia regarding matters of substance that I would be wise to expend more effort to resist." He grinned at all assembled, seeming pleased to be reviving a fondly-recalled sense of activism. "I wonder if Admiral Halftel is familiar with the final scene of MacBeth?"

Leo was, but couldn't make the connection and Deanna, being only familiar with the plot and not the lines, was lost.

Cocking his head rather grandly, Data provided the reference.

"Lay on, MacDuff! And damn'd be him that cries 'Hold, enough'!"

When they were alone in the turbolift, Leo turned to to Data with a shudder. "Do you think I was convincing?"

He was mystified. "You appeared in all respects very much in control of yourself and your intentions were very clear. Was that not the case?"

She gripped his arm and leaned on him as if ready to faint. "Shit, D, I made it up as I went along."

At that Data smiled and patted her hand reassuringly. "So did William Shakespeare."

Gazing up at him in shameless adoration, Leo told him, "I would love no other. I'd be crazy to."


	12. Intermezzo II

Picard was relaxing under the influence of some secret French brandy and equally French opera when his door comlink chimed.

"Yes?" he called out, irritated at the intrusion. It had not been a pleasant day, what with Anthony Halftel's announced intentions and the confrontation with Data and Leo. Confrontation was the only way to characterize it; they were confronted by a commander who was bound by oath to support the objectives of the Federation and Starfleet. No matter that he had decided that personal ethics determined that he couldn't fulfill that mandate this time, their respective rank and position placed them at odds by definition. To have sat in that seat behind that desk facing two people for whom he had not only respect but genuine (non-Starfleet issue) affection set his mind, his teeth, and his stomach on edge.

"Captain, it's me."

Leora O'Reilly. The bane and blessing of his command, and at the moment the person he was least inclined to face. He took a breath. "Come." Picard was out of words where she was concerned, and couldn't count on himself to address further opposition with anything approaching grace or reason.

The door slid open, revealing Leo in her preferred casual attire of 21st century style: faded blue jeans and a t-shirt that featured a singer named Tina Turner, whom he'd come to learn was something of a patron saint to his administrative exec, for reasons she'd yet to reveal, and he had neither the time nor inclination to research.

"Captain, I'm sorry to disturb your down-time. But I needed to see you 'off the clock', if you know what I mean."

"Not at all, come in Lieutenant. Would you like some tea? Computer, end music."

Leo protested, "No, please, I adore Gounod."

"Computer, continue selection." Then, "I had no idea you were a devotee of opera."

"Not much time to ask, I guess, even after almost two years. You could say I have eclectic musical taste. If it's well done, I like it. Rock, jazz, blues, classical, any genre as long as it's art and not mechanics."

Picard indicated the sofa. "Sit down. What brings you to my sanctum, Lieutenant?"

"Please, we're off the clock. I'm Leo now. And for the next little while, at least, I'd like you to be Jean-Luc. Can you handle that?"

"I think so."

She hadn't sat yet, but stood regarding her commanding officer with the kind of steady gaze that existed outside of protocol.

"I wanted, that is I needed, I _need_ to tell you something. Before any of this spins out of control, before there's any damage to undo, I wanted to speak before any good intentions are trampled by necessity."

He stood there, uncomprehending and slightly uncomfortable, as he could see she was as well. "You're always free to speak your mind, Lieutenant… Leo. Even when not given leave, as we both know."

She took a breath, gathering her nerve. This wasn't natural or easy for her; she clung to the security of divisions of rank in much the same way as Picard did. There were established parameters within which deeper meanings could be expressed. Both of them were comfortable with the subtle "grammar" they'd developed. But Leo had decided, considering how things might play out, that "subtle" was insufficient for her purpose.

"What you said this afternoon, about supporting Data and me against the admiral and the Federation, against every powerful and small-minded opposition they'll muster… you have to know that I took you at your word, that we both did. That I don't take it lightly, and I know exactly what it might mean to you."

Picard smiled rather uneasily. "As do I. Understand what it might mean. I'm not a reckless man given to grand displays but there are some things, to paraphrase Winston Churchill, up with which I cannot put. I'll be honest, it would be much easier I could simply issue an order for you both to comply, but at the end of the day I have to face myself even if the mirror is broken."

Leo gestured vaguely with both hands. "I don't know what that might mean in the long run. I don't think I _want_ to know what lengths, what risks, it might drive you, all of us, to. Maybe it'll be a lot easier than we imagine, at least I hope so. But knowing you're willing to stand up even if it isn't… to me, doing that when you have no idea of the outcome says much more than doing it when you're sure one way or the other. It's the difference between commitment and calculation." She paused then, shook her head. "I'm babbling."

The smile became indulgent. "I think not. I hate to step down off my pedestal, but I'm afraid my decision to back whatever you and Data decide has more to do with me than you. Perhaps age has helped redefine my estimation of the finer elements of command, until as a commanding officer I can't do otherwise than support my crew as they support me."

Leo shook her head, and finally her gift for expression was overcome by something less logical and more powerful.

"Wrong, you're so wrong. This afternoon, and right here, right now, you're not a commanding officer, or a mentor, or a keeper of the ethic. You've become something entirely different," she held out her hand in their well-established convention of connection, then bypassed Picard's own as he reached to take it, because suddenly it seemed a ridiculously inadequate gesture.

"You're the kind of friend I thought I'd lost forever," Leo told Picard, her voice barely a whisper and her eyes unexpectedly awash in unwanted tears. Compelled by the ghosts she'd never left behind, she reached around his neck to hug tight and run a hand over and behind his head to cradle it in a gesture so intimate neither of them could quite believe that instead of stepping back he returned her embrace warmly.

"However this ends," she told him fiercely, "I'll be the same for you, always, no matter what it takes."

Later to fade in intensity but not in significance, at this moment the affinity of (alleged) opposites crystallized into something that promised to extend deeper than duty and defy all differences. Neither would ever mention it to another soul, or even to each other. When, silent moments later, Leo returned to her quarters it was with the knowledge that lightning could, in fact, strike twice and burn just as brightly both times. She also knew that somewhere, somehow, 300 years past, Paul was smiling.


	13. Welcome to my nightmare

Data didn't expect to see Leo stumbling bleary-eyed toward his console at 3am. She did not appear upset or unwell, perhaps a bit confused by a sudden awakening. He turned from his work (the final report of the seemingly endless ore analysis) and asked, "What is wrong? Did you have a disturbing dream?" Admiral Halftel was due to arrive at 0830 hours, and Data suspected that might have been playing in Leo's mind during REM sleep. In fact nothing of the sort had been occupying her sleep. She'd dreamt of the normal life they'd planned, of waking in the middle of the night and rolling back slightly to feel him sitting next to her engaged in his eternal pursuits. She'd dreamt of the touch of his hand as it rested on her head in acknowledgment of her movement (and her presence), a parallel thought he was never willing to abandon even when absorbed by others.

"Mm, just had to pee, no bad dreams I promise." Leo's tendency to keep upsetting matters to herself had led to Data's creation of the code phrase "I promise", meaning the official absence of denial. Neither of them would violate its sacred status by, respectively, misusing or disbelieving it.

"Did you accomplish your mission?" he deadpanned. Smartass was wasted unless Leo was fully awake, but he liked to practice whenever the opportunity arose.

She was too fuddled by sleep to respond in kind. "Yeah. 'n I just wondered if you were ever going to finish this stuff."

"I am finishing right now." Data returned to his console and keyed in a final series of entries. "The ore analysis is now officially," he turned to look at Leo, "_finally_ complete." He logged off and shut down his console, announced, "Computer, 1/8 light," and rose to take Leo by the arm. "It is not wise to interrupt your sleep." Before such a big day, both of them amended silently.

Leo would be on her own when Admiral Halftel arrived. Data, Captain Picard, and Lieutenant Worf were scheduled to attend the final meeting between the opposing Rhezar mining communities. The dilithium and neutronium concerns had, with the tireless assistance of both the Federation mediators and the Enterprise security team, achieved what could best be described as a balance of measured skepticism. Given enough respective security skills and understanding of one another's agendas (which were frankly honest if self serving) in a short time they would come to trust one another and share the planet's wealth to their respective, if not mutual, benefit. The captain and his primary security and science officers had been invited to attend the final conference in acknowledgment of their contributions.

Which left Leo alone to deal with Admiral Anthony Halftel on what was supposed to be her day off. Knowing the captain as she did, Leo understood that his carefully engineered absence was an expression of disinterest in Admiral Halftel's unwelcome inquiries. He'd learned long ago the expressive power of diplomatic absence, and for that reason she'd forgiven the added stress the situation imposed upon her. She wanted nothing more than to spit in this imperious, interfering bastard's eye.

Data followed her into the bedroom and changed "for bed". Even though he didn't sleep he followed the human conventions of bedtime since Leo had moved in. And he believed it would be an act of support to be with Leo as she slept, whether or not she was nervous about the coming day. Deanna had counseled him, "Loving, supportive behavior is never 'unnecessary'. It doesn't require a crisis to be considered meaningful." Leo was already back in bed, asleep and snoring gently when Data joined her. He slid closer and laid a hand on her stomach, knowing it would prompt her to roll over and settle against him, head on his shoulder. More than once he had considered the unique opportunities his positronic nature afforded him in terms of intimate interpersonal relationships. Because he did not require sleep, he could be fully aware of Leo's presence tactilely and mentally in this most intimate and trusting of circumstances. Other lovers faded into unconsciousness as did their partners, neither being very aware of the other until waking. In its subtle way it pleased him to realize there was some aspect of a primary interpersonal relationship that only he as an android, and not organic humanoids, could enjoy. He knew that Leo treasured his constant awareness of her, and that it was something he could offer her that she would never find from anyone else. Once they were married he would, it occurred to him, _never_ forget their anniversary. "Aha," he said very quietly to himself, having discovered another quality of his part in this relationship that transcended emotion rather than being analogous to it.

"Mmph," Leo mumbled and shifted a little. "Don't you ever shut up?"

"I shall endeavor to curb my garrulousness," he told her. "Go to sleep." He didn't have to tell her twice.

Leo was present with Commander Riker in the shuttle bay to greet Admiral Halftel and his staff of one lieutenant. Why he felt the need to bring him was anyone's guess.

"Maybe he needs help carrying that ego," Leo observed drily as they stood at attention waiting for the shuttle doors to slide open and reveal the man she'd come to think of as Data's nemesis. Will swallowed a laugh as the Admiral debarked, followed by a younger officer who really did look like the guardian of his ego. The three horsemen of pompous, she decided. Halftel looked every bit as self-important as she'd expected.

"Admiral, welcome back to the Enterprise," Riker addressed both men. "Captain Picard sends his regrets, he's engaged in a final conference on Rhezar 2, together with Commander Worf and Commander Data."

The admiral looked displeased. So Picard hadn't let him know he wouldn't be here. Leo smiled inside. Good. Setting the tone from the start. Now Will gestured toward her, "This is Lieutenant Leora O'Reilly, ship's administrative executive officer. She'll see to any logistical needs you and your staff require. VIP quarters have already been arranged."

"Very Imperious Prick" Leo had snipped when ordered to arrange them. Picard hadn't objected to the term at the time, but both understood protocol dictated he not demonstrate approval. As it was, his only response was the characteristic arched eyebrow of warning.

"The admiral and I have met, after a fashion," Leo acknowledged. "Welcome to the Enterprise, Admiral, gentlemen. Let me know if you need to arrange particular facilities or schedule meetings with crew members, and I'll take care of it." She spoke as if she weren't a primary reason for their presence. Halftel's face betrayed not a hint of irony.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. I'm sure we'll be speaking at length soon. My adjutant will be in touch regarding logistical requirements."

"Very good sir. Then I'll show you to your quarters, if Commander Riker has nothing more…"

"Carry on, Lieutenant." Then to Halftel, "I'll inform the captain of your arrival."

"Tell him I'd like to meet with him at his earliest convenience."

"I'll do that. Dismissed, Lieutenant."

Leo led the admiral and Lt. Dwyer to their VIP quarters.

"I'm sure you remember where everything is and how it works, Admiral. In fact I'm sure you're well acquainted with all the technical specs." The last was a dig, and he knew it.

"Yes, Lieutenant, very well acquainted, though I'm here to learn more."

"Well sir, the replicators haven't changed any."

"I'll become familiar with other upgrades and their effects soon enough, I imagine." He _is_ a prick, Leo thought. "Now I have an agenda to review. Please orient Lt. Dwyer to his quarters, and I'll contact you if I need anything further."

Agenda, no kidding. "This way, Lieutenant." She gave him the 50-cent tour and left him to confer with his keeper.

Less than an hour later the admiral was calling at the ready room.

"Lieutenant, I'd like to ask you a few questions while they're fresh in my mind."

Too shrewd to appear arrogant by sitting at the captain's desk, Leo settled in one of the side chairs after indicating the admiral also should take a seat.

"I'm afraid I'm not prepared to answer any of your questions, Admiral."

"You don't even know what they are." He didn't appear pleased. In fact displeasure alternating with smugness appeared to comprise the entire range of Halftel's facial expressions. Leo couldn't conjure even a ghost of the humility Data had described as a result of their futile efforts to save Lal.

"With all due respect, Admiral Halftel," and she barely managed to avoid verbally placing quotation marks around "due", "I'm not prepared to answer any questions at all regarding my interaction with Commander Data." She really wasn't prepared to deal with this now, having imagined the captain would be the first one approached. "In any case, I believe it would be proper for you to meet with Captain Picard before engaging in any direct interviews of his crew."

"I don't require reminders of protocol, Lieutenant." The veneer of civility, born no doubt of superiority, wore thin. "I simply felt I might give you the opportunity to provide some focus I might find useful as I conduct my inquiry."

Leo was losing her grip on professional demeanor. After all, this pompous would-be cybernetic pioneer (fat chance) was here to interfere with her life. More to the point, to interfere with her life with Data. She rose then.

"Admiral I think it would be best if you wait until the captain's return to begin your inquisition." While technically accurate, she used the term in the colloquial sense that had, undeniably, remained unchanged even into the 24th century.

Though he also rose, Halftel didn't seem inclined to accept Leo's suggestion. "Lieutenant O'Reilly, I've heard a great deal about your intellect, wit, and resistance to protocol. I feel compelled to suggest you focus on the seriousness of your situation."

"My 'situation' sir? Please clarify." Unconsciously she'd fallen into Data's syntax.

"I'm sure you are fully aware of the purpose of my visit. I'm here to investigate, to _analyze_, developments of great importance."

Leo couldn't stop herself from shaking her head in dismissal. "Great importance? I don't think so. Though I might consider things like life and death to be of 'great importance'." A subtle change in the admiral's posture and expression didn't register as she continued, "Focus? I can assure you that what you're describing doesn't command my 'focus'. Or maybe it's because I know that nothing can focus you, can shift your definition of 'importance', like communing with mortality. A phaser in the face, so to speak, trumps an inquiry into social matters that are, after all, none of one's business."

"I can see this is going nowhere. I'll speak with Captain Picard upon his return."

"I'll warn him."

"Excuse me?" He was about to call her on insubordination.

"I said I'll inform him, sir."

Halftel fixed her with a cold glare. "I assure you that Starfleet Command will not find your style as charming as the captain and crew of the Enterprise, Lieutenant."

"I'll take that under advisement, sir. And sir?" She stopped him as he strode to the door.

"Yes."

"To avoid any lack of clarity in the Starfleet Command hierarchy, I will state clearly that my primary duty is to the Enterprise and Captain Jean Luc Picard, not the Daystrom Institute or the Starfleet Cybernetics Division."

"That remains to be seen." He left without further comment.

Right, well that bit of unpleasantness is finished. She left he ready room and stopped to speak to Will Riker, who held the Big Chair.

"What did you say to him? He looked ready to chew neutronium."

"Nothing too far beyond the pale, Commander, really. Though I'm certain I wasn't _entirely _professional I did manage to hold back just this side of gross insubordination. Anyway, I have the _rest_ of the day off. If you need me I'll be in my quarters."

"Very well, Lieutenant. Dismissed."

Leo was feeling a bit smug herself as she changed from her uniform into blue jeans AC/DC t shirt, yet another popular culture reference she couldn't even begin to explain to her crewmates. She'd settled down with a cup of jasmine tea and a nice thick Dickens novel when someone rang at the door.

"Yes?"

"Security, Lieutenant."

"Huh?" She went to the door and was surprised to see two security personnel waiting outside. She knew their faces but couldn't quite remember their names.

"Is there a problem, guys? Commander Worf hasn't contacted me about anything."

They appeared very uneasy. "Sorry, Lieutenant O'Reilly," said the darker one, name of Neemon she recalled, "we've been ordered to compel you to come with us."

"'Compel' me? Gimme a break, who put you up to this?"

Now Halftel's lackey Dwyer stepped into view. "Admiral Halftel has obtained authorization from Starfleet Command to place you under arrest, Lieutenant."

Instinctively Leo stepped back from the door, but Dwyer and the security detail entered before it could slide shut.

"I'm not going anywhere until I talk to Captain Picard."

"This comes from Command," Dwyer informed tersely, "the captain will be briefed upon his return."

She activated her combadge. "Lieutenant O'Reilly to Commander Worf." A computerized voice responded "Commander Worf is beyond combadge range." They must be meeting somewhere in the mines.

Dwyer spoke more aggressively. "Lieutenant if you refuse to comply I'm authorized to have you restrained."

Leo ran to her console. "The hell you are!" She hit the bridge link. "O'Reilly to Commander Riker!"

But Dwyer had stepped up and cut off the communication. "Escort the Lieutenant to the brig." A hesitation. "Unless you'd like to join her there."

As Neemon and his companion stepped forward Leo dodged and ran past them into the corridor, seized by the irrational certainty that they'd take her away the way Halftel had sought to take away Lal, and Maddox had tried to take away Data. The guards caught up with her quickly, not managing to subdue her before she cold-cocked Neemon and sent him bouncing against a bulkhead. The other guard, Masters it now registered (how could she recall names with all hell breaking loose?) pinned her arms behind her back and pressed her to the bulkhead where Neemon was regaining his balance.

"Please Lieutenant, don't make this more difficult."

"Well tell me what the fuck is going on, will you? Under arrest? What the hell for?"

As she was led, no longer fighting, to the turbolift Dwyer intoned – as if it made sense, for christsake, she thought – "For threatening the life of a Starfleet Admiral."

Not that she wouldn't have loved to. But for the life of her, Leo couldn't imagine what he was talking about as Neemon requested "Brig," and the turbolift sped them there.


	14. Unlawful restraint

"What the hell is going on here?" Will Riker stormed into the detention area and hastily, though insincerely, added "Sir" when he nearly ran into Admiral Halftel and his lackey Dwyer. He'd received the frantic, sharply cut off communication from Leo and Data's quarters and traced her location via the ship's computer. She stood raging in a detention cell, with two security personnel standing by. One of the guards was developing quite a shiner.

"Well?" Riker demanded of anyone who was willing to answer. "Can anyone give me a reasonable explanation why the ship's administrative executive officer is behind a force field?"

"The lieutenant threatened my life," Halftel announced as if speaking to a jury.

Will's eyes widened. He could almost believe it. He could see Leo read his expression and he requested, "I'd like to speak to the lieutenant alone." Stereo objections were winding up in Halftel and Dwyer, but he headed them off with "In Captain Picard's absence I am in command of the Enterprise. Now I would like to speak privately to _my_ administrative executive officer, gentlemen. You may lodge any protest you wish with Starfleet Command."

Grumbling, Halftel and Dwyer retreated to the corridor. Both security guards stood by uncertainly.

"Are you confused by the definition of 'privately'?"

"Uh, no sir," both mumbled and headed for the door.

"Neemon, report to sick bay and have that eye seen to."

"It's nothing, sir." He didn't want to acknowledge that a woman half his size had nearly dropped him.

"That's an order, mister."

"Yes sir."

And then they were alone, the only sound the buzzing of the cell's force field.

"Computer, drop force field, Commander William T. Riker."

The buzz silenced.

"Well come on out and tell me what's going on. _They_," Riker jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward the closed door, "aren't gonna be much help."

Leo stepped out of the cell, still leery of the force field that she'd slammed into in a rage when she'd first arrived.

"I honestly have no idea."

Will eyed her closely. "Did you threaten his life? It's not like we don't all know what you think of him."

Leo directed a poisonous glare in the direction of the door to the corridor. "Commander I assure you, if I wanted him dead he'd be smouldering in the ready room."

When he wiped his hand over his face, he looked remarkably like the captain. "Let's not let that get around, okay? So if you didn't threaten him, what _did_ you say?"

"Oh hell, I dunno," her brow furrowed, "he was blathering about how I should be focusing on this 'important matter'," and she informed Will, as if he didn't already know, "I wasn't exactly a bundle of gravity, you know? So I told him something like I consider life and death important, and nothing can focus you like mortality. I mean he was talking as if his little weirdo mission was the be all and end all, like he expected me to think so too."

"And that's all you said?"

"Well, aside from telling him I wasn't gonna answer any of his dumbass questions." Will's eyebrows rose simultaneously with his eyeballs rolling. Pretty impressive. "I didn't _say_ dumbass, okay?"

"So he just figured your reference to focusing on mortality and life and death was some kind of subtle warning."

"You know me. Have I ever been subtle?"

"You have me there. The inclination to insubordination will make a novel defense."

In spite of her anger a surge of fear ran through Leo. "_What_ 'defense', I didn't _do_ anything! He's just looking for a reason to slap me down!"

Will was shaking his head. "Well he may just have found it. For the time being anyway. Look, I'll have him release you and I'll confine you to quarters."

"_What!_ Are you fucking mental?!"

Now the "Commander" in Riker came out. "Lieutenant this isn't Ten Forward and we aren't playing poker. If you want any of this to go your way I suggest you tap into that professionalism that persuades the captain to put up with your dark side."

"You know what he's trying to do. He's trying to get me court martialed and drummed out. You know how he is, if he can't win he just busts up the game, like he did with Lal." She shook her head suddenly, and her voice took on a tense quaver, "It's not _right_. You can't let it happen again."

Will's expression softened. "No, it's not right. And you can believe when I tell the captain he won't let it happen. But please, for now just play out the hand, okay? Bluff your ass off, I've seen you do it often enough."

"But I always _lose_," she reminded him in growing desperation.

He tried to calm her with a patented Charming Riker smile. "Then the odds are in your favor, aren't they? Trust me, Leo. Trust all of us. We won't let Halftel run you out, and we won't let him take away everything Data's achieved."

She took a shaky breath. "I guess I don't have much choice, do I?"

The door chime rang. "Commander, I won't be sidelined like this!"

Will ignored him, and gave Leo a strong hug. "Play scared, and he'll back off a little."

When he released her, she looked up at him. "Who's playing?" she asked honestly, then stepped back into the cell.

"Raise force field," Riker ordered, then hit the door mechanism. "Gentlemen," the word nearly poisoned him, "I believe the next appropriate step would be to contact Captain Picard."

* * *

"What the _hell_ is going on here?" thundered Picard after transporting directly to the brig upon receiving Riker's communication that "We have a situation here." Being of higher rank than Riker he was entirely uninterested in modifying his speech. Worf stood glowering nearby, furious that his crew had been commandeered by this interloper. Data had been forbidden from attending, and had the conn. 

"Lieutenant O'Reilly threatened my life," Halftel informed Picard with some urgency.

"Nonsense." Picard turned to where Leo was sitting, now forlornly (and not putting on much of an act, really), in her cell. "Lieutenant O'Reilly, did you threaten the admiral's life?" he barked impatiently. Immediately she stood at attention.

"No, sir."

He nodded in satisfaction and turned back to Halftel, "See here, I won't have you compensating for your unsatisfied 'curiosity' by interfering with my crew."

"Captain, as an admiral of the fleet I demand reasonable protection. This woman threatened my life!" Dwyer's demeanor as he hovered nearby fairly screamed in agreement.

Picard's eyes fluttered shut for a moment in "give me strength" fashion, informing all who knew him of his struggle to maintain control. "Where did this 'threat' take place, Admiral?"

"In your ready room, where I attempted to obtain from Lieutenant O'Reilly some answers to a few simple questions."

Picard offered a tight, angry smile. "Forgetting for the moment your breach of protocol in attempting to conduct an ad hoc interrogation of a member of my crew, might I suggest we review the log records covering the events you refer to?" The captain's ready room was under constant log watch, unless Picard himself deactivated the protocol.

"Very well. But I demand this woman remain in custody until the logs are reviewed."

Picard dismissed the suggestion with a terse shake of his head. "Nonsense. Mr. Worf, release Lieutenant O'Reilly on my responsibility and escort her to quarters." He turned a jaundiced eye on the admiral. "And see that she doesn't break into the weapons hold, will you?"

* * *

Will Riker thought he'd seen every expression imaginable on his friend and crewmate Data's face, but what greeted him when he returned to the bridge was entirely new. Concern wasn't surprising, but there appeared to be a hint of anger as well. Or the android analog. 

"She's fine, Data, Worf took her back to quarters on the captain's order. The captain is reviewing the ready room log records of the admiral's conversation with Leo, where she supposedly 'threatened' him. I don't think this will amount to anything. In fact I think Halftel is eating his words right about now."

Data's voice was uncharacteristically cold. "Perhaps the admiral would be better nourished by a generous slice of humble pie." Will's eyebrows rose.

"Mr. Data, when did you come by such an impressive grasp of sarcastic metaphor?"

"I believe it was at approximately the same time as the admiral's previous visit to the Enterprise. I have found little use for it since then."

Will told him sympathetically, "I guess those days are over for the time being."

"I am afraid I must agree. Commander, my watch is nearly over. May I request permission to leave the bridge and return to quarters?"

"Of course, Data. And tell her I wish I could have done more."

Data's chill disappeared immediately. "On the contrary, sir. I have known you long enough to be certain you could _not_ have done more. I thank you, for both of us."

"No thanks necessary. I can't stand the pompous bastard myself." Will cast a quick look around to make sure nobody else had heard. "Dismissed."

If the ship's infrastructure would have permitted it, Data would have beaten the turbolift to his quarters.


	15. Inorganic faith

When upon returning to his quarters he saw Lt. Worf emerging, Data expressed concern. "Is everything all right?" he wanted to know. Was Leo under constant guard, he wondered, suddenly so distrusted she could not be left unmonitored?

"Yes, commander. The lieutenant and I were merely listening to some Klingon opera. I thought it best to remain until her anger had cooled."

"Ah," Data nodded, "a wise decision."

Worf growled in the general direction of the VIP section. "I do not l like this admiral. I have _never_ liked him."

"Nor I," Data agreed mildly. "But he is here, and the captain has promised his support. In any case, Admiral Halftel has already made his intentions clear."

Worf was distracted from his fantasies of dismembering Halftel and his simpering assistant with his bare hands. "What have you learned?"

"It is quite clear by the admiral's behavior, based on his previous conduct, that if he is unsuccessful in obtaining what he seeks officially, he is willing instead to end my relationship with Leo in any way possible. As he was willing to take Lal away from me. Perhaps he will attempt to decommission me and remove me to the Daystrom Institute for 'study'."

Another rumbling growl, more menacing this time. "I'd like to see him try."

Data replied earnestly, "I would not. Given the captain's expressions of support, the consequences for him, myself, and Leo would be most unpleasant. Thank you for your help. I must see Leo now."

"Of course. And if any more of my security crew appear without my authorization…"

"We will be sure to contact you."

Leo was kneeling on the floor in Data's "art corner" staring at his portrait of Lal. She started violently when the door hissed open, and crouched as if ready to run as she turned a wary face to see Data approaching.

"It is me," he reassured her. "I was told about everything that happened to you today. I am sorry we were not here to stop it." She was sitting flat on the floor now and as she didn't rise, he joined her. "I have been told it is a good likeness," he remarked, indicating the painting.

"I think I know how she felt, before the end, when it was all out of control," Leo murmured, gazing again at the portrait.

"Lal did not understand what was happening to her," Data explained. Leo turned desolate eyes to his.

"Neither do I. And it doesn't matter if I ever do, just like it didn't matter if she did. It's all gonna happen like it happens anyway."

Uncertain what to say, Data reached out a hand to touch Leo's hair as she confessed, "I'm scared, D, they grabbed me and put me in a cell and I never realized until it happened how easily they can make me disappear for good. There's only so much they can do to you, but I'm nobody at all."

He frowned. "That is not true. You are not nobody."

She was staring at Lal's face again. "He couldn't get what he wanted from you, so he wouldn't stop until she was destroyed. What if it's my turn now?"

"You have heard the captain's intentions. He will not allow anyone to interfere with our life together. He will not permit our rights as free individuals to be redefined."

Leo examined at Data's earnest face, wishing this time she could be convinced by his utter certainty. It usually worked, but this time it fell short. The machinery that ran this new "federation" was more casually powerful than any she could have conceived of in her time. The fact that it believed itself to be founded and run on good and enlightened principles made it that much harder to find a way to fight back. She sighed and got to her feet, crossing the room to where her few "back in the day" books and possessions were stored on an open shelf. Data rose and went to stand behind her.

"What is wrong? There is more, more than anger at what happened today, more than the fear of what the admiral might want to do." No response but a stifled sigh. She was holding back, he could tell. "Look at me, Leora Eileen, please." He took her shoulders and she allowed him to turn her to face him. "Tell me," he coaxed, tipping her chin up with a fingertip. She looked defeated. It was something he had never seen in her before.

"I wanna go home."

Data smiled, perplexed, and took one of her hands in his. "You _are_ at home." She shook her head.

"I wanna go _back_," she admitted, clearly ashamed but unable to deny what she was feeling. There was no explaining it, no logic to define it, but she was desperate to return to where she was sure on her feet regardless of the possible outcome. She wanted to go back to where she could simply ignore anyone who didn't care to understand what she wanted or who she was, or anyone else for that matter.

If there was an android analog for pain, it was all over Data's face. "You wish to leave here, and our life."

"No, I wanna go _back_. I want you to come with me."

"And you believe that in your world who we are and how we are different would not matter to anyone else." Hearing it spoken aloud made Leo realize what a ridiculous and naive wish it was.

"No, I guess not. I've been here long enough to get used to a lot of things and thoughts and 'contemporary realities' but not nearly enough of them to have faith in what I don't know for sure. I don't know what kind of opposition would beat this Starfleet vendetta, I don't know if Captain Picard has any strategy in mind or if one is even possible." In the greater scheme of things, her accumulated time in the 24th century didn't amount to much, and her knowledge of "how the world works" didn't extend much beyond her immediate everyday life. Her old instincts just didn't seem to apply all the time. "Back in the day" she always knew the lay of the land, always found a back door, always had a plan B. "I thought I'd really got a grip on the here and now, this Federation and the new age of reason and all that, and I don't. I'm right back to tired and stupid." She paced aimlessly. "At least I've learned to feed myself."

Data had matched Leo step for step, and now reached around her waist to hold her still. "You are not stupid. You miss your former life and home. You have not been here long enough to be certain of your place and purpose, or to have the faith in others that is born of such a certainty.

Out of explanations or musings, Leo repeated her earlier confession. "I'm scared, D. And I'm angry, and… I don't like this at all. I'm not used to being helpless."

A smile flickered on Data's face. "I believe that may be a primary source of your distress."

Instead of being pissed off by the accuracy of his assessment, Leo nodded. "You're right. I hate it. I've always been in control of my life, always been able to walk away from what I didn't like, or tell anyone to go to hell if they didn't like who I was or what I did when I _knew_ I was right. Like now. I wish I could be like you, just say no and leave it at that, trust that there's a way around every opposition without having to see the blueprints signed in blood."

"You will never be 'like me', Leora Eileen. That may allow us to be greater than the sum of ourselves, and may be our greatest source of strength."

She pressed close to him then, face against his shoulder. He held her that way for several minutes, then gently disengaged himself.

"I have an important task to accomplish."

"Huh? Okay, one of us still has work to do I guess. For now, anyway."

Data leaned closer to kiss Leo. "I may be away for several hours. Will you be all right?"

"Sure. I'm home, at least."

She managed to miss the Mona Data Smile. "You are at home," he kissed her again. "Do not wait up."

It was only just a bit past 2100 hours when Data returned. Leo had barely moved from the sofa where she was deeply involved in the Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby.

"Come with me," he instructed.

"I can't, remember? I'm C2Q. The ship's computer will report to Security the nanosecond I cross that threshold."

Data shook his head. "It will not. I have written a subroutine that will create the illusion of your presence here, and your absence elsewhere on the ship."

This was puzzling. "Whatever for? It's not like I can escape or something."

Data took her hand and pulled her to her feet. "There is something important I must share with you."

As he pulled her through the door she told him, "You're busting me out… that's _so_ romantic."

"Ssh," he instructed. "We will take a less traveled route."

"To where?" She was following obediently, for once, but had no idea what he was up to. After a few rather unfamiliar corridors and one mystery ride in a seldom-used auxiliary turbolift she recognized that they were outside of Holodeck 3. Data stopped and took both Leo's hands as they stood before the door.

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course. With my life."

"Then please close your eyes."

He seemed so intent on whatever his mission was, she complied without saying a word and let him lead her through the door, keeping her eyes shut tight as she heard it whoosh shut behind them. Then, familiar sounds, so far past they took her by surprise. Tree frogs, and crickets, and wind in the trees.

"Open your eyes," Data told her.

When she did, Leo was stunned to find herself standing in the dooryard of her former home, full moon overhead flooding the house and its deck in silver. He had recreated "her" woods before, or nearly so, based on her descriptions of the surrounding area, but nothing like this.

"Data, how…"

"Ssh, come with me," and he led her up the steps and slid open the large glass door, standing aside to let her enter.

She stood in the middle of the living room, turning a slow circle, mouth open and eyes wide.

"Is it as you remember?" he asked with some concern.

"Yes," she managed to murmur, going now to the bookshelves and racks of record albums, examining the photos on the walls and the finely carved mantelpiece over the fireplace. "It's perfect." Even the sandalwood candle was burning. She turned now to face him, his relief at her validation evident. "How did you know? How did you _do _this?"

"You miss the place where you had faith in yourself and your life. Since Admiral Halftel's arrival you have 'lost your balance'. I hoped that allowing you to revisit the place where you were strong and certain might help you rediscover those qualities in your present life."

"But D, _how_? Who could possibly have provided this…" she reached out a hand to touch the gold frame that held her favorite picture of Paul, "this _detail_?" Data took her hand and led her to the Victorian sofa where he sat them down.

"I located Captain Raymond of the Avalon and he informed me of the whereabouts of Lieutenant Andrew Lewis, the Avalon landing party member who first encountered you."

"Who spent several hours here," Leo remembered. "But how could he have told you enough to create all of this? Nobody has that kind of recall."

Data smiled, looking a bit self-satisfied in Leo's opinion. "The lieutenant reported to his ship's sick bay and enlisted the aid of the doctor in retrieving the stored sensory details of that night. He transmitted them to me by subspace, and I used them to create this holodeck simulation. The sensory details of other crew members who assisted when you returned to collect your 45 kilos of possessions were also included. You are sure it is accurate?"

Leo was shaking her head, but not in disagreement. "In every detail." She did another circuit of the room, then wandered into the kitchen, then upstairs to her bedroom. She was so quiet Data became concerned. He ventured up the stairs and stood in the doorway of Leo's recreated bedroom and found her seated on the bed, looking very thoughtful.

"Are you all right? Perhaps this was not a good way to re-establish your feelings of stability and certainty. I believed it might help."

"Based on your knowledge of me, and the difficulty you saw me in, you concluded that recreating surroundings from my life before might restore something I'd lost and make me _less_ lost. Is that it?"

Data nodded warily. He remembered another time and another woman who found similar interpersonal perceptions and efforts to help inadequate, and even insulting. It wasn't something he considered while absorbed in his task, and though it would surprise him if Leo responded with disappointment he considered it a distinct possibility based on his past experience. Analogous interpretation only went so far.

"Have my efforts as a result of my intimate knowledge of your emotional state, and personal history, proven emotionally disappointing to you?"

"Oh Data," Leo rose and crossed the room in two steps to seize Data in such a fierce hug that he staggered back a step, "nobody has ever loved me enough to do anything like this."

He responded by quoting the novel she'd been reading when he persuaded her away. "You need only hint at your slightest whim and I would risk my life to fulfill it."

She covered his face with kisses as he managed to hide his relief. "I don't care what that Halfass does, or says, or asks. Let him throw my ass in jail. I'll rely on my friends to navigate the way if I can't."

Data closed Leo in his arms and steadied them both as he drew his head back to look her calmly in the eye. "I would love no other," he reminded her. "My decision is neither driven by hormonal imperative nor clouded by emotional obsession. You are who I wish to be with, no other, and your presence in my daily existence is essential to my personal progress and success. If Admiral Halftel cannot recognize and appreciate the analog to human emotion and commitment, I have no doubt that there are others in the Federation who can. We need only find them. Do you have faith that such a thing is possible?"

She nodded and ducked her head against his shoulder. "What would he think if I told him an android knows more about faith than I do?" Suddenly Leo stepped back. "D, can we stay here tonight? I mean, I'm C2Q and you don't have duty tomorrow, can you extend your computer optical illusion for a while? I couldn't explain why but I think it'll help."

"I believe that is possible. Commander Worf has promised his assistance in assuring the admiral that you are securely confined to quarters, and cannot be safely interviewed for at least one more day."

Sometime before morning, Leo half-woke to a most curious awareness. She was in her own bed from long ago, in the familiar and safe home she'd made for herself, wrapped up with someone who could make anyplace at all feel like home to her so long as he was there with her. The most secure aspects of her past and present converged in the dimness of a digitally recreated room that existed only as a projection of mathematical codes. It was, she decided, more than worth any obstacles some pompous admiral might throw in their way. Data was immediately aware of her.

"Is everything all right?"

"Mmm," she told him sleepily, "it worked."

He understood completely. "Go back to sleep, I will wake you in time to return to our quarters before the admiral might see fit to call on you."

"Pffflllt," Leo responded with a grimace before drifting off again. Data smiled internally and returned his attention to planning the wedding he had no doubt would occur. Perhaps, after all, pure faith was only possible for an android.


	16. Damn, and double damn

By the time Captain Picard ordered him to examine ship's communications, in order to determine who had contacted Starfleet regarding Data's engagement to Leo, Geordi had been doing his own off-duty investigation for nearly a day. In fact he'd started analyzing communications data within an hour after they'd all learned Admiral Halftel would be "visiting" the Enterprise once again. All the information regarding intra-and-extra-ship communications was stored by the ship's computer, though following each message to its source was a painstaking operation. Given the volume and nature of communications occurring every minute of the day on a Galaxy Class starship things like signal relays, buffers, and routing signatures made decoding an anonymous subspace message a challenge even for someone of Geordi's experience. Because of the nature of the message and the issues involved he wasn't inclined to enlist the direct aid of anyone in Communications. There was no sense agitating the Corridor Chatter network beyond its usual peak efficiency, Geordi thought with a rueful smile as he waded through thousands of lines of routing codes. There was nothing for it but to start at the destination of the message, Starfleet Command, and work backward to the source. It was rather like finding the origin of a single strand of spaghetti that trailed outside a full bowl. It could be done, but it would take a while.

Geordi wasn't happy with the direction his search was leading him in… so far the channels were completely unrelated to any established user codes. He supposed a relay could shift direction somewhere down the line, but so far it appeared to have been a generic user channel, meaning a day-visitor to the ship may have accessed a subspace channel via any of a number of generally unsecured comports. It wouldn't have been hard for anyone with a moderate level of communications knowledge, as non-dedicated channels weren't password locked. Another alternative troubled him, though. It could have been someone newly assigned to the ship; what with the uproar on Rhezar 2 it wasn't unreasonable to expect a bit of lag time between quarters assignment and the issuing of a user code and dedicated channel for communications. There had been no crew transfers to the Enterprise for several weeks before the message was sent, and only one on the day in question. Geordi's focus swung from the digital to the practical. His and Data's shared interest in the adventures of Sherlock Holmes enabled him to reasonably abandon the rest of the code analysis, in favor of a solid deduction.

"Damn." He slapped the console in anger. How vindictive must a person be to avenge a past, _mutual_ failure by trying to ruin someone's life? Two someones, he corrected himself. "Trying" to ruin, because like Data and others he had full faith it would not be allowed to happen. Geordi hit the direct link to the bridge.

"LaForge to Captain Picard. I think I have an answer for you. And you're _not_ going to like it."

* * *

Picard had had a busy day himself. He'd had an extremely trying meeting with Admiral Halftel, during which the admiral emphasized (repeatedly) his top-level authorization to conduct "a thorough inquiry into the vital question of Data's obviously disrupted programming" and the corresponding imperative of guarding against any malfunction that would impair his judgment or performance. Picard would have had to stifle a laugh at the latter comment if the possibilities weren't so serious. The notion that Halftel believed his own rhetoric – and Picard was not entirely convinced he did – added another layer of absurdity. He was frankly persuaded to accept the shared theory of his senior officers that the Federation, more specifically the Daystrom Institute, and Starfleet sensed the danger of a missed opportunity to get in on the "ground floor" of the paradigm-shifting technological development that Data's relationship with Leora O'Reilly seemed to represent. 

As Picard had suspected, the log records revealed nothing at all resembling a threat on Halftel's life, though Leo's comment regarding "a phaser in the face" made his gut churn in consternation. He'd have to have a word with her (not for the first time) about keeping a grip on her phraseology when under pressure.

"Admiral it's quite clear that Lieutenant O'Reilly had and has no intention of causing you harm. She spoke out of turn under duress, and I'll address her insubordination. As for refusing to answer your questions she is entirely within her rights, as is Commander Data."

Embarrassed by the ease at which his accusation had been disproven, Halftel warned, "Captain, if Commander Data and Lieutenant O'Reilly refuse to cooperate with the non-intrusive investigation I have planned for my visit I'll have no choice but to have the Commander reassigned to the Daystrom Institute for a more detailed examination."

Empty posturing, Picard thought with disdain. "I must have missed the Federation directive authorizing forced testimony regarding one's personal relationships. Perhaps I should attend the next Constitutional seminar and get up to speed."

Halftel offered a hard smile of acknowledgment. "You're quite right that your crew aren't compelled legally or by duty to answer my questions. I was merely offering a less disruptive alternative to that which _is_ permitted under Federation law and Starfleet regulations." When Picard didn't answer Halftel's smile became predictably smug. "Based on the established precedent of specific findings, Commander Data's status as a sentient and autonomous life form are beyond question." Score one, thought Picard, but the admiral continued. "That being the case, you must be aware that when erratic behavior is observed in any Starfleet crewmember, Starfleet _requires_ that individual to be fully evaluated by qualified medical and psychiatric personnel. In Commander Data's case, the only qualified processes and professionals exist at the Daystrom Institute."

"Commander Data is not behaving erratically. His performance and behavior on and off duty continues to be exemplary and utterly stable."

Halftel's eyebrows rose rather theatrically. "Are you saying that establishing a romantic relationship – not merely a sexual liaison, but an ongoing relationship that he now wishes to make permanent by marriage – is _not_ a marked departure from an android's typical behavior? Not to mention his capabilities. I'd say it is a stunningly erratic behavioral development, and the Federation agrees."

Picard dismissed him with an annoyed wave of the hand. "Nonsense, Data has always had an affinity for humans. He has many friends among the crew."

"There is a vast difference between acquired social skills and what Commander Data has 'proposed'. If there weren't, your entire crew would be married to one another."

Picard was beginning to understand the admiral's new tack, and it appeared nearly airtight. By all established records and progress reports, Data _had_ evidenced marked interpersonal development since meeting Leora O'Reilly. Their relationship was, frankly, something an android shouldn't even be interested in, let alone capable of. And while Picard and his crew had certainly noticed it as a departure for Data (being his longtime friends and colleagues), for the most part they viewed his relationship with Leo as one might view any established bachelor who'd changed his ways. Any organic humanoid bachelor, that is. Data's positronic makeup had barely been considered, but suddenly Picard realized the monumental error they'd all made in ignoring that part of the equation. Even Deanna had only considered the subject on personal terms in her conversations with Leo. Hell, various crew had been encouraging Data and Leo to "make it official" for some time now. In their complete acceptance of Data as one of them they'd chosen to ignore the fact of his existence that made him vulnerable. They should have _known_ the Federation would take a great interest, and they should have been ready. Halftel was waiting for a response, no doubt so he could refute it, but Picard could no longer find a reasonable avenue of opposition. Couched in Federation regulations that safeguarded personal well being and professional effectiveness, Halftel's argument became instantly phaser-proof. And he knew that the devil himself would never persuade Data and Leo to cooperate, not that Picard would ever sink low enough to ask them to.

"What do you propose?"

"That Commander Data be reassigned to the Daystrom Institute for the period of time required to examine the anomaly in his behavior and determine its origin and process."

Anomaly. That was how this cybernetic charlatan characterized the personal commitment of two valued Starfleet officers. And this from a self-described "family man". Of course in what passed for Halftel's mind, Data's intrinsic value was primarily as a walking research project. Suddenly Picard felt a great affinity with Mr. Worf; he wanted nothing more than to reach across the desk and squeeze the admiral's neck until his eyes popped. Instead he forced his voice to remain level and locked on a poker face.

"Which would naturally necessitate his disassembly."

"That's likely though not certain."

"And I imagine Bruce Maddox would oversee the analysis." Somehow Picard doubted that even with years' more experience Maddox's ratio of eagerness to expertise had not improved.

"Of course."

"I don't suppose he has any connection with the Federation High Council nowadays?"

"As a matter of fact, he's the chair of the Cybernetics Division Advisory Council."

"How very cozy."

For a moment Halftel actually appeared to shift uneasily. "Well Jean-Luc," and it was the first time he'd addressed Picard by name since this whole mess began, "there's no reason for me not to tell you that the subspace message that alerted the Federation to Commander Data's positronic breakthrough came by way of Commander Maddox, though I'm being honest when I say that even he has no idea who the sender was."

Oh, lord. What a nest of snakes was revealed in a single sentence. Thus far Picard had believed that what he was up against was a bit of personal prejudice and personal ambition. Now it seemed that Maddox had somehow found a way to fulfill his long-established need to fully analyze the processes of Data's development from circuitry to higher sentience, a passion shared by Halftel. Though he'd come to recognize Data's rights as an autonomous being, now it became clear that Maddox and his cohorts were seeking the key to the concept of the organic analog that had been stumbled upon quite by chance. All of the questions were worth asking, Picard agreed, but he couldn't bring himself to define them as a Federation mission. They belonged, in spite of every logical argument to the contrary, in the realm of philosophy and not cybernetics and Picard was no less determined to intervene in what amounted to a sanctioned abuse of personal rights than he'd been two days ago. The trouble was, in terms of the hard fact of law and regulations, Maddox and Halftel's plans would be considered both reasonable and valuable to the Federation and Starfleet. Damn. He needed to buy some time while he researched options.

"You realize, Admiral, that losing my second officer and head of sciences would seriously compromise both the effectiveness and the safety of the Enterprise. Some care must be taken to replace Mr. Data with an officer of comparable experience and skill." The purported benefits to Starfleet and the Federation formed the core of Halftel's (and Maddox's) rationale, and maintaining peak performance of the Federation flagship was a prime consideration. Halftel reacted as if he'd been thwarted by a pawn at the moment of checkmate.

"Of course. I'll pursue the necessary crew reassignment with Starfleet Command when I contact them regarding Commander Data's reassignment."

"It should be understood that as commander of the Enterprise I and my first officer reserve the right of approval."

"Of course, Jean-Luc... within reason." Anthony Halftel may have spent his Starfleet career motivated by primitive ego and thirst for professional gain, but he was no dummy. "I'll have Command notify you directly with their crew proposals."

"Lieutenant O'Reilly."

"Excuse me?"

"Proposals should be sent to Lieutenant O'Reilly for preliminary assessment."

Halftel's cool cracked. "Don't be ridiculous, anyone recommended by command will have been fully vetted."

It was the captain's turn to be smug. "Surely you're aware of the change in starship personnel protocols with the establishment of the new administrative executive officer position. 'All new crew recommendations and assignments are to be routed first to ship's A.E.O. for preliminary assessment'. Of course with the lieutenant confined to quarters for your protection, I don't see how that's possible." He recited the regulation by rote because by god he'd had to learn it that way. He'd never suspected the ordeal might pay off, as it did in the form of Halftel's disgruntled smirk.

"Very well, release the lieutenant from confinement to quarters with my approval. But I'll hold you personally responsible for her behavior."

Picard's smile became positively reptilian. "I assure you, admiral, the lieutenant will do nothing without my _express_ approval."

Picard was still smiling to himself in great satisfaction after Halftel's exit when Geordi contacted him. After he'd been filled in, Picard had to admit Geordi had been prescient… he didn't like what he heard _at all_.

"Commander, escort Lieutenant D'Sora to my ready room. _Immediately_."

For Picard the compromise of trust among his crew was near the top of the list of things "up with which he would not put". It led to a rot that could destroy a starship, and he would not tolerate it. Any crew member who was foolish enough to be its cause did so at his or her peril, as the vindictive lieutenant was about to discover.


	17. No win

"I imagine you know why I've summoned you here."

Lt. Jenna D'Sora had no reason to imagine why. Geordi's presence hadn't raised suspicion. "I'm afraid not, sir."

Picard hated liars, but kept his decorum. "Commander LaForge recently has been engaged in a rather exhaustive computer search for the party responsible for a subspace communication to the Daystrom Institute some days ago. In fact, it occurred on the day you arrived on the Enterprise."

"Sir? Do you expect I know who might have originated it?"

"Based on Commander LaForge's conclusions I expect, Lieutenant, that you _did _originate it."

Jenna managed a surprised expression and turned to Geordi. "Commander, have you evidence of this?"

Geordi shook his head as if to say "why try". "C'mon Jenna, don't make this any uglier than it is already. I know enough to know that it had to originate from a short-time presence on the Enterprise and you're the only one who qualifies for the day it happened. I could follow the message to its origin in another day or so, but the answer wouldn't be any different."

Jenna took a breath, as if to gather her courage, then addressed the captain. "Yes, sir, I contacted the Daystrom Institute the evening I arrived. I believed that the developments in Commander Data's socially adaptive functions would be of interest."

Geordi knew that Picard would never address the issue directly, so he headed off any officially neutral response. "You mean someone else got what you wanted, and you wanted to know why." He wanted to grant her the benefit of the doubt of believing that, rather than sticking with his first instinct.

D'Sora had no ready excuse. "I believed that the Federation would want to know."

Now Picard stepped in. "Know what? That Commander Data had developed beyond his design specifications, or that he'd found somewhere else what you hadn't found together?" All present were surprised by the statement, but Picard was weary of obeying his inner restraints.

"The former, sir." Even if she didn't believe it herself, Jenna figured the commander of the Enterprise would default to logic. She was wrong.

"I see. So you saw fit to bypass every rule of ship's protocol, and contact a Federation institute directly? I assume it is because you believed that I as captain was unfit to make the judgments necessary to evaluate the situation."

He was in no mood for debate or defense. Jenna D'Sora was sunk, and she knew it. The only question was how deep. She said nothing.

"Lieutenant, you were accepted for transfer to the Enterprise engineering section based upon your acquired skills since your last posting. Though your past personal history with an Enterprise officer was noted, it was not considered significant. Until now." He allowed her a space to respond, but she didn't.

"Lt. D'Sora, you know as well as I that the success of any Federation ship depends upon its crew. When they know and trust one another, anything can be accomplished. When they do not, everything can be destroyed. Your intrigue against fellow officers has tainted your standing as a crewmember aboard this ship. For that reason, I am ordering a transfer. You are henceforth qualified to serve in an engineering capacity aboard any ship in the fleet except this one. It will be so noted in your record."

"Captain, Commander," Jenna told them, "I didn't set out to hurt anyone." While that was not entirely true, she'd been surprised by the grave turn her tip-off had taken, having imagined a report would have been filed, perhaps a bit of inconvenience endured.

"Then it beggars the imagination to consider what might happen if you did," Picard observed coldly. "Dismissed."

When D'Sora had left, Picard regarded Geordi with a weary expression.

"Would that the results of her meddling could be dispatched as easily."

* * *

Data and Leo had stolen back to their quarters near 0700 hours. Having nothing better to do, Leo continued with her Dickens and Data with his officer's log. 

"Commander Riker to Lt. O'Reilly," Leo's combadge announced from where she'd left it on the dresser. She sprang off the sofa and replied via her desk console.

"Right here, Commander. What can I do for you?"

There was a smile in Riker's voice that even Data could discern. "The captain requests your presence in the ready room at your earliest convenience."

Leo shot a frightened glance at Data. Had they been found out?

"Ten minutes okay?"

"Fine. And welcome back to the salt mines, Leo. Your pardon came through."

"Well it's about goddamn time," she half muttered and hastily added, "Sir." She was into her uniform, hair swept up and in place, combadge attached, in less than five minutes.

"Would it be correct to assume we will not be spending the day together?" Data teased.

Leo struck a suggestive pose near the door. "Just you focus on the nights, Marcello, and let me worry about the days."

"I shall endeavor to comply." Leo was barely out the door when Geordi's voice came over the comport on Data's desk.

"LaForge to Data. You there?"

"Yes, Geordi."

"Is Leo there?"

"No, she has just reported for duty."

"Good. It's probably better she hear it from you."

"Hear what, Geordi?"

"I'd rather tell you in person. I'll be there in a few minutes."

* * *

"Jenna D'Sora contacted Commander Maddox at the Daystrom Institute regarding my relationship with Leo? To what end?" 

Geordi shrugged, disgusted. "Who knows. She _claimed_ she thought the Federation would be 'interested in the development of your socially adaptive functions'. Of course the captain wasn't having any of that. She was just trying to stir things up, is all, she felt robbed of a second chance with you and just couldn't accept it without making trouble."

Data's puzzlement persisted. "But why, Geordi? What would she expect to accomplish by disrupting our lives in this way? It would not persuade me to re-form our attachment. It would not undo what happened in the past."

"Only Jenna knows what's going on in Jenna's head, Data. Maybe all she wanted was to mess up your life. You know the old cliché, if I can't have you then nobody can."

He was shaking his head, determined to make sense of it. The wish to cause pain for its own sake was a concept that remained entirely resistant to his powers of understanding, no matter how many times he'd witnessed it in others. He and Jenna had been friends, even if they were unable to be anything more. That she would invite such trouble for himself and Leo with no hope of benefit to herself was beyond his capability to process.

"Forgive me, Geordi, I have something to attend to. Thank you for telling me this. I will attempt to find a suitable way to inform Leo."

"Sure, Data. I just wish I knew some way to clean up the mess that Jenna D'Sora is leaving behind."

"No more than I."

When Jenna answered the door to her quarters she didn't appear surprised to see Data. He could see she was nearly packed.

"Well I guess you know," she said simply, returning to the task of putting some personal belongings in a packing container.

"Yes," Data told her, entering the room but remaining near the door. "But I wish to know _why_. By now you are aware that you have set in motion events which threaten my continued service on the Enterprise, and the position of those who would support me."

"Well I guess maybe I wanted someone else to hurt like I did."

He took a step closer. "I do not understand. You cannot hurt me, Jenna."

Jenna threw down some books and turned to confront Data. "Can't I? When your 'fiancée' was thrown in the brig, didn't that touch you at all? When she gets scared at the prospect of losing you, when she cries because she doesn't understand why she's not able to have what others have by right, doesn't it get to you at all? Or have you just not discovered the analog yet?"

He ignored the bitter questions. "Tell me, Jenna, how can hurting Leo, whom you do not know and has done you no harm, benefit you? How can disrupting my existence bring you pleasure? It will not bring me back. It will not erase the mistakes we made. It will change nothing but the future. I do not know what the end result of the Federation's influence will be, only that the captain and others have promised to intervene. At what cost, we do not know." He regarded her in silence for a moment. "I am not capable of emotion, and continue to struggle to achieve the analog that will allow me to experience connection with another that I know, though I cannot 'feel' it, is worthy of the effort. But even if I were human, even if I possessed the knowledge of every nuance of emotion felt by every human throughout history, I would not believe that the willingness to inflict such harm may be justified by unrequited desire. I am sorry, Jenna, I believed apart from all else we had been friends. You have demonstrated that is not the case."

Giving up her "woman scorned" attitude, Jenna gestured emptily as Data turned to go. "Do you think you can let me know how this turns out? I didn't want to hurt anyone."

He turned back and gazed blankly at her. "There seems to be a pattern in the disconnect between what you 'want', and what is possible. There is no point to further communication between us."

As Data continued down the corridor to the turbolift, the flood of disappointment nearly overwhelmed his neural net. He could not be hurt, true, but he could be disappointed. Disappointment, like belonging, was a condition and not an emotion, and like pain and love they were equally inescapable.

* * *

"You're pretty quiet tonight, D." Leo had returned from her watch energized. She _hated_ being unproductive. The fact that her first official duty of the day had been to process the transfer of Jenna D'Sora didn't hurt her mood, either. The reason stated in the captain's authorization had been "personal". Maybe she just couldn't face being on the same ship with Data as he went on with his new life. She hadn't asked – it being none of her business as a matter of protocol – and the captain certainly hadn't elaborated. She supposed Data knew about it, but didn't expect that it would sink him into the android equivalent of a fugue. Even if he wished Jenna well, Leo also knew he wished her gone.

Data glanced up from the tech research reports he was reading at his console. His confrontation with Jenna had left him unsettled, but he was still unsure how to broach the subject with Leo. She was sure to become angry when she learned of Jenna's involvement in their current difficulties. He wasn't certain he was up to navigating yet more rapids of human emotion this evening. Better to leave things quiet for the time being. "I am absorbed in my work. Was there something you wished to discuss?"

She'd finished cleaning up after eating, and now wandered nearby Data's desk. "No, not really, I guess you just seem a little… well if you were _human_, I'd say you seem moody, or down or something."

"If I were human, the past few days would have happened very differently."

For anyone else it would be a detached observation, but Leo had been developing some analogous interpretive powers of her own. She moved closer, sat on the edge of the desk and invited, "Tell me. You think you're unreadable, but you're wrong."

Data pushed back from his console and rotated his chair to face Leo. "You processed Lt. D'Sora's transfer today."

"Yeah, no surprise really. I didn't think she'd last once she knew the way things are with us." To her surprise, Data reached for her hand and held it in both of his.

"Unfortunately, it was her communication to the Daystrom Institute that resulted in the way things are, in an immediate sense."

She understood immediately. But whatever wild raging bitch might normally have burst forth at such news was neutralized by the expression on Data's face. It was so near to sadness that Leo just couldn't focus on her own anger. She knelt next to his chair.

"Oh D, I'm so sorry. What a lousy thing to do to someone you claim to love. What a terrible way to repay your friendship."

"It is a sobering experience," he acknowledged. "After Geordi told me it was Jenna who sent the subspace communication, I went to her quarters to see if I might determine why she had done something so harmful."

"Did you get the answer you needed?"

"No." Data looked deeper in Leo's eyes. "I was reminded of your encounter with Lt. Jennings. You had hoped to find an answer to a question that had long affected you, and you did not."

"Sometimes there just aren't any answers, D. I've seen people behave cruelly all my life, and they have as many reasons as targets. And not one of them ever comes close to making sense, not even to them I guess."

Now Data's troubled expression smoothed into something more familiar. "I had expected you would become very angry when I told you that Lt. D'Sora was responsible for summoning Admiral Halftel."

"I am angry, very angry. But I'm mostly sorry she hurt you."

Blinks of consternation. "I cannot be 'hurt'."

She stretched up to hug her arms around his neck and kiss his cheek the way he often did hers when she was having a hard time. "Okay, whatever you say. I love you, down to your last little positronic fibre. Let that be the answer to every impossible question." She sat back on her heels to see The Contemplative Look.

"I would love no other."

"Well then I guess that's _my_ answer. C'mon, let's go to Ten Forward and see who's firing up the Corridor Chatter tonight." When she rose he followed her to the door but stopped her before it could hiss open, and pulled her into a close embrace.

"If I were human," he told her, "If I possessed the knowledge of every nuance of human emotion by every human throughout history…" he thought for a moment, then added, "Nothing that could be described as 'love' could be analogous to what I have experienced since we met."

She stared at him with wide eyes. "My god, Data, you're almost there."

"I am already 'there'," he told her earnestly, "perhaps it is the rest of the universe that needs to catch up."

As they headed toward Ten Forward, Captain Picard had just been given the idea of a lifetime courtesy of his First Officer.

"Captain, you say that Halftel has you pinned to the wall with Federation law and Starfleet regulations. Maybe it's time you got back in touch with someone who enjoys pulling out pins almost as much as plunging them in."

It was as if the same synapse fired simultaneously in both their brains. Without bothering to dismiss Will, Picard turned and opened a frequency to Starfleet's JAG office.

"Captain Picard of the USS Enterprise. I have a coded subspace message for JAG Philippa Louvois."


	18. Leap of faith

"Have you lost your minds? You think this is your 'best option for success'?" Leo regarded Captain Picard and Data with wide-eyed disbelief. "You said you were going to _help_," she accused Picard directly, "now you say Data should just go along to the Daystrom Institute to be dismembered? You _know_ they'll find a way around your 'legal parameters'!" Turning her attention to Data Leo declared furiously, "I can't believe you can agree this is a good idea! I thought we'd agreed we wouldn't cooperate with this inquisition?" Abruptly she fell silent, nearly hyperventilating. She was beginning to feel lightheaded, from rage or fear she couldn't tell.

"Captain," Data requested, "I request permission to have a moment alone with Lt. O'Reilly." Asking the captain to leave his own ready room was so unheard of that he phrased it as formally as possible, hoping it would sound less outrageous.

"Granted," Picard responded without hesitation and rose quickly from behind his desk, "I'll be on the bridge when you're ready." When he took the seat next to Riker, who had the conn, the latter commented _sotto voce_, "Not taking it well." It wasn't a question.

"To be expected, Number One, to the uninitiated it does sound like surrender on the face of it, after all."

Picard had consulted several days before with JAG Philippa Louvois. Though she might be construed by some as a former nemesis, Picard and his senior staff were mindful that she had in fact ruled in Data's favor on the question of his personal rights and sentience. Seeing no immediate way around Halftel's stalemate he'd decided to discover if he might be outmaneuvered on the basis of his own arguments. Once he'd explained the situation, Philippa was more than happy to help.

"I hate having my decisions skirted and second guessed. When I ruled Data had the right to choose, that meant in _every_ personal matter, not just those that Starfleet finds convenient. Now if I'm grasping this clearly, it's been stated that Data must be evaluated on the basis of a massive change in his behavior, evidenced by his ongoing personal relationship with your Lt. O'Reilly. Forgive me, Jean-Luc, but I have to ask because this is a key point. Do you believe their relationship to be a truly committed primary connection between equals, an 'analog' if you will to human primary relationships leading to marriage, or is it an ongoing social friendship with a sexual aspect added?" Silence. "Jean-Luc the reason I'm asking is that if you're to fight this on the grounds of Data's right to take part in a committed primary relationship, and therefore that his behavior is not 'erratic', the Federation may claim that no such relationship exists between them. I'm not saying that it's something they're going to be prepared to investigate in detail, but the facts have to be clear."

Picard cleared his throat. "I think it's safe to say that if the woman involved were not virtually the first in Mr. Data's experience who was _not_ primarily enticed by his, ah, more physical attributes, we wouldn't be having this conversation. Of course you could speak to some of his closer friends on the crew, if they'd talk to you, but you'd hear the same thing. The fact that the entire affair, if you will, has been accepted as commonplace is what has led to us being blindsided by the Federation's involvement."

"That's good enough for me. All right then, it's plain that the best course of action is to challenge the Federation on their own grounds."

"Why do I get a feeling of déjà vu?" Picard observed with some annoyance.

"Old friend, like it or not your Mr. Data is a unique creature living his life in a world made very uncomfortable by uniqueness, regardless of its protests to the contrary. He is the living line that must always be crossed to create new precedent. Luckily for him he has friends and colleagues who believe he's worth the battle."

"I might say the same of myself. Thank you, Philippa, for coming through on this."

"Don't thank me yet, Jean-Luc, but give me a day or so to do some research and commune with some like-minded colleagues on this 'fascinating hypothetical' I've developed to 'advance legal theory'."

"Understood. Will Riker was right about you."

"Excuse me?"

"After I'd lamented Halftel pinning me to the wall legally, he suggested I look you up as someone who enjoys pulling pins out as much as plunging them in."

Philippa laughed. "Glad to know Riker doesn't carry a grudge. I'll be in touch as soon as anything has gelled."

"Thank you again. Picard out."

Having faith that Philippa would come up with some sort of useful strategy, and wanting Anthony Halftel off of the Enterprise post-haste, Picard informed him that he would agree to the transfer of Data to the Daystrom institute for evaluation, and would be in touch when arrangements for a replacement were completed.

"How long?"

"Well I don't imagine it would take," Picard began.

"One week. If Commander Data is not present for evaluation at the Institute in _one week_ I will have him taken into protective custody and escorted there. Is that clear, Captain Picard?"

Oh, dear, I'm not "Jean-Luc" anymore, the captain sneered internally. Biting back his urge to put this Very Imperious Prick (bravo, Leo!) in his place, he merely replied, "Understood." He was grateful that Data had been satisfied with the assurance that a suitable counter-attack was being developed. Leo was predictably unconvinced.

"I'm supposed to believe that someone in the Federation 'legal' machine will be able to help," she'd snapped back when he told her of the conversation. He hadn't gone into detail about the proposed defense, having few details at the time.

"You don't know Philippa Louvois. She's very good at finding back doors."

"I know she tried to declare Data a toaster."

There was simply no way to make Leo appreciate the scenario of that first legal confrontation. Riker and even Data had tried to make it clear how dedicated Louvois was to the principle of Data's self-authority even as she was legally bound to challenge it. But Leo was entirely unschooled in the ways her cherished ad-hoc resourcefulness was exercised in the 24th century. She firmly disbelieved such means and methods even existed there. Picard had let the matter lie, but later that same day, when Philippa came back with her advice, the confrontation couldn't be avoided.

The plan was to allow Data to return to the Daystrom Institute for examination with the clearly defined stipulation that every diagnostic _short_ of dismantling was to be used for evaluation. Supporting that prohibition was the nearly antique – and conveniently forgotten – Federation guarantee of the right to refuse physically invasive procedures in the absence of compelling need. In the days when old-style surgery was still occasionally employed for difficult diagnoses, the right to refuse had been established to ensure that nobody could be mucked about with for reasons of mere research or in cases of sloppy medicine (or pure politics). Philippa was absolutely certain that the non-invasive diagnostics – those stopping short of full-scale dismantling – would prove categorically that Data's desire for a relationship wasn't indicative of a malfunction.

"The burden to prove otherwise rests entirely with Starfleet and the Federation," Louvois assured Picard during their last communication.

"And if they manage to manipulate the proceedings to their advantage?" Picard knew better than the JAG how accomplished the Cybernetics Division was at getting what they wanted, purportedly to "further positronic refinement".

"Well since all parties are agreed that Data has the same rights as organic beings, dismantling him to prove a point would be equivalent to performing an autopsy on a living human to support a medical theory."

Picard hadn't thought of that. "Then why not _begin_ there?"

"Always keep your ace in the hole until it's needed. I'm betting everything that it won't be. But if it is, keep it where they can't strategize in advance against it."

"Your willingness and ability to find legal wormholes never ceases to amaze me."

"I'm just glad the law is made by inherently flawed individuals. Those 'wormholes' have saved more people than Mr. Data."

"Tell me, Philippa, can you suggest any way we might hedge our bets, so to speak?"

"You can request a non-affiliated expert in positronic cybernetics to take part in the evaluation, though I don't know who, if anyone, might have that level of expertise and _not_ be in the employ of Starfleet. Starfleet wouldn't be _required_ to allow it, but judging from the careful way they're framing their case they're not likely to deny it, if only because the likelihood of finding anyone is so slim." As they weren't on visual, she couldn't see the smile of inspiration light Picard's features. He just might find the very person they needed. With profuse thanks and a promise of a lavish dinner to celebrate, the captain logged out and considered how best to inform Data and Leo. Wisely he chose to meet with Data separately, and first.

"I'm afraid, Mr. Data, you will have to be subjected to one more indignity." He explained the strategy and the legal parameters to be set by himself on Data's behalf as his commander. Data listened patiently and considered for a moment before replying.

"Though I do not relish the prospect of having to defend my existence yet again, it does sound like a plan that has a reasonable chance for success. What would be the alternative?"

"I'm sorry Data, there is none. Admiral Halftel has been empowered to take you into 'protective custody', for your own safety of course," his voice dripped ice water, "if you don't report to the Daystrom Institute in seven days."

"Ah. Please express my gratitude to JAG Louvois for her assistance. But a question remains… where are you to find anyone of sufficient skill and experience to serve as a non-affiliated expert in my evaluation? There exists no such person outside of Starfleet."

The previously-unwitnessed sly smile returned to Picard.

"Sir?"

"No matter what kind of trouble a man is in, he can always count on his mother."

"You refer to Juliana Tainer?"

"Well Data nobody is more intimately knowledgeable about your operations than Dr. Tainer. And she was never officially affiliated with Starfleet."

"That is true. But sir, is there not a conflict of interest to be addressed? Starfleet would not accept an expert with such a close personal connection to myself." He appeared very apprehensive.

"Relax, Data, nobody is going to have to lie. They will certainly vet Dr. Tainer's qualifications and discover your connection. But they will never see her as your 'mother', as they have never quite seen you as equivalent to human. They will be looking for scientific bias, not maternal. The fact that you were not in contact for so long, and now only occasionally, will support the presumption of professional detachment."

Unconvinced, Data replied, "You mean the 'illusion', sir. No such detachment exists."

"Sins of omission, Commander. The fact is, mother or not, Dr. Tainer could contribute nothing that would mislead or deny any results of a properly conducted assessment of your operations. She could, however, contribute additional technical and procedural guidance that would enhance what Commander Maddox is able to compile."

Finally Data nodded in agreement. "You are correct. Even if she were so inclined, my mother could not misdirect the outcome."

"So then, Data, it's high time you called your mother."

"She still resides and works on Altrea with her husband. I will contact her when my watch is concluded."

"The sooner the better. It's a ship's matter after, all. Dismissed." Picard heaved a sigh of momentary relief and slapped his hands on the desk as he typically did when a demanding task had been fulfilled. "Well I'm glad this distasteful matter is nearly concluded."

Data hesitated en route to the ready room door. "Not entirely, sir." Picard's high mood dimmed rapidly when his second officer reminded him, "I must now inform my fiancée that I will be reporting to the Daystrom Institute, where our relationship will be examined as a symptom of systemic positronic malfunction."

"Why don't you bring her here where we can both reassure her, Mr. Data."

"I appreciate the offer, sir, but I am not assured of its potential for success. Nonetheless, we will report here in an hour."

Data hadn't tried to fill Leo in himself, deciding at the last moment that hearing arguments from a fellow organic being with recognized emotional foibles might defuse what he knew would be her reflexive reaction of anger and disagreement. There were times when his detached (well mostly) logical approach only made things worse. Yes, the captain could address the legal and practical aspects of the plan with appropriately human perspective. Data rightly considered it was his own responsibility to help her cope with the more personal fears, less easily definable, that he knew would plague her and that she would try to keep to herself.

Thus Captain Picard sat in the second officer's seat on the bridge awaiting word that a storm had been averted.

In the ready room Leo was staring into the fishbowl, angry and silent. Data stood by her side.

"Cara mia," he began.

"Don't. This is too important for cute."

"Leora Eileen, look at me." His voice was firm enough that she complied, and was greeted by the Forever Face. "We have explained what has been planned as an effective opposition to the Federation's interference. Captain Picard has consulted JAG Louvois, who is regarded as a jurist of superior experience and skill. She has also proven her support of the principle of our position in the past and has provided this advice at considerable risk to her position. Everyone we know, and some you have never met, have expended considerable effort to assist us. Yet you persist in anger and opposition, and have accused the captain of breaking his promise. Do you remember what we said about faith? You have insufficient knowledge and experience of this time and its people to believe in our chances of success without 'seeing the blueprints signed in blood'. Here is where you begin to acquire it." He was certain that her outbursts and defiance were born of fear and personal offense that the situation could even exist, and not mistrust of those she had come to know as friends. Finally she looked him in the eye.

"Data everything you tell me is true. It is, and I know it. But what you're asking is something I'm no good at here. Before I could always extrapolate, you know, a calculated risk was more calculated than risk because I knew the world I was in. I've been learning, pretty well I think, but I haven't been _assimilating_. I'm really, really trying but I just can't make it happen. You all try to share your certainty with me, but I'm just too alien to get it."

Data rested his hands on Leo's shoulders. "You are not attempting to assimilate a new culture, but a new universe and a new time for which you were not prepared when you came. It can appear an overwhelming task. But it has been my experience that assimilation, like knowledge, occurs most effectively from the particular to the general. It is most difficult for those who wish to know everything at once." A trait they shared in common.

"But D, what's happening isn't some social faux pas to be corrected or some new technology to learn. So much, _everything_, is at stake, it's so hard to trust that what's about to happen is the best idea when it just looks like you're all giving in. You say you're not, and you all believe you're not, but everything I know tells me you're wrong. I want to have faith in all of it, but after just two years I don't know where to _start_."

"It would be sensible to start here. I have been told that the first leap of faith is always the most difficult. If this is the biggest one that you can imagine, the ones that follow will be easier."

He was right. She knew he was right, but the knowledge couldn't force out the panic that rose in her at the thought of losing him. Panic didn't respond to logic. And if they were wrong, if there was an inherent corruption in the Daystrom Institute that would lead to the violation of every parameter they agreed to, what then? Her instincts always were to go down fighting, but here she didn't yet have the skill to choose her battles. Leo knew she'd been spinning out of control and had said some dreadful things to and about those that Data quite correctly reminded her were going to great lengths to help. "It looks I'll like have to be pushed, huh?"

The Mona Data Smile emerged. "I do not expect that you could be 'pushed'. But I am certain, even if you are not, that this leap of faith will be safely accomplished."

From where she stood the worst that could happen was unimaginable. It had never been clearer to her how solid a center to this new universe Data had become for her, as solid as Paul had been before. How could she have let this happen again? She actually believed she had a choice in such matters. Leo found herself fighting an unexpected rush of tears that she only just managed to hold in. "Christ, Data, what if I _fall_?"

"Your friends will catch you," he responded simply. "It does not matter if you believe it. It will happen. Everything will be all right. The Federation will be appeased, I will come back, and we will be married. And you will meet my mother."

Statements of fact, unassailable by her wildly emotional "what if's". How had she ever lived without him? She was seized all at once with a very commonplace doubt. "Do you think she'll like me?"

"I believe she will love you." Leo appeared less fearful now, if still uncertain. It was that fear, and not her anger, that Data had sought to relieve. "And I would love no other."

Leo stepped into his arms and kissed him almost as she had the first time. "Lucky me," she whispered.

Now Data glanced at the door. "Perhaps we should permit Captain Picard to return to his ready room. There is much to be arranged."

"Let me do it," Leo told him, and went to Picard's desk to hit the bridge comlink. "Captain Picard, report to the ready room." Data's eyes widened, and he shifted uneasily when Picard strode through the door.

"I beg your pardon?" he demanded of Leo, who responded sheepishly, "I've always wanted to do that."

Accepting the joke rather stiffly, the captain asked, "Lt. O'Reilly, have you mastered your native tendency for protest enough to assist in making arrangements for Commander Data's transfer to the Daystrom Institute?"

"Yes, sir. Prepared for a Galaxy Class leap of faith, sir."

"Excellent." Picard's relief was evident. "Let's get down to business, then. Mr. Data, relieve Commander Riker at the conn. Lt. O'Reilly, schedule a shuttle and pilot to bring Mr. Data to the Institute in six days."

"Six days?" Leo was surprised. "That's cutting it a little close, isn't it sir?"

"I say make 'em wait. Shall I enter your objection in the record?"

"No, _sir_."

"Well it's about time… make it so."


	19. Every time we say goodbye

She woke calling his name. The empty space beside her combined with the darkness in the outer room to compound her confusion. Something was out of balance.

But the nightmares she'd feared hadn't materialized. It seemed she'd absorbed the confidence of others by immersion, by sheer osmosis. What remained was the echo of unoccupied space, a lack of symmetry marked by the contradictory once-familiar solitude at the beginning and end of the day. Who was she kidding, she'd never really lived that romantic notion of solitude. There had always been someone, in this world and the one before, who was able to dissipate her excess energy by sharing the positive and mitigating the negative. She had to admit, though, that nobody before had been quite so adept at defusing her unreasonable rage for simplicity and calming down her explosive flares of extremity before they burnt her (and everything around her) to ashes.

She was left with an oddly selfish sense of separation. She'd never thought about how insular their life together was, friends and colleagues and connections everywhere but when the door hissed shut the world was complete between them. Now she realized that "away" was a whole lot harder than "gone". "Gone" was finite, it was a small distinct fact whose initial pain passed so you could get on with things. Paul was gone. Data, though, was away. "Away" was an empty space masquerading as a constant companion. It was shaped just like him, and that indefinable thing that was greater than the sum of them both. She'd known she'd miss him, but she never guessed what "missing" really was until he was gone. After all, she had barely been a day without him, one way or another, since arriving on the Enterprise.

This was going to be the longest week (or ten days, or two weeks, or…) of her life.

* * *

It had taken longer than expected to find a post for Jenna D'Sora. Or maybe not. There was the question of the brevity of her assignment to the Enterprise, something not elaborated on in her record and something Captain Picard was unwilling to discuss "off the record" with any other commanders of his acquaintance. Her record demonstrated no inappropriate behavior except in relation to Commander Data, so Picard saw no reason for this transgression, however serious, to ruin her career entirely. In the end she was assigned a transfer to a Starbase in the Orion system, where she'd be part of a terraforming engineering crew. 

Leo, of course, made all of the arrangements of transfer of personnel and other records, and typically would have transmitted the transfer orders themselves to the comport, in the crewmember's quarters, to be downloaded and carried by the transferee to the new posting. But this was no typical crewmember, and no typical transfer. And, giving in to a gnawing hunger for some small retribution, Leo communicated to Lt. D'Sora that her orders would be brought to her in the shuttle bay by hand at the time of her departure. Not satisfied with D'Sora's being sacked (which after all was what this transfer amounted to) from the assignment she'd lobbied so hard to obtain, Leo wanted to see her made as emotionally uncomfortable as possible in the bargain. Nothing she could do to the woman could come close to what her meddling was putting everyone else through, especially Data and Leo herself, but Leo decided that some small satisfaction may be had by finding one last opening to stick in the stiletto. She made no mention of her plans either to Data or the captain, who would certainly disapprove. So fucking what, thought Leo as she headed to the shuttle bay at 0800 hours on the appointed day. She intended to get her pound of flesh, even if it proved a meager reimbursement.

Lt. D'Sora didn't appear entirely surprised to see Leo arrive, orders in hand. She took them without a word.

Since Jenna didn't ask, Leo told her without hesitation. "I wanted to see you before you went. I wanted to look you in the eye and ask you what you possibly could have gotten out of it. What benefit you can be enjoying by doing this? You certainly didn't get away with anything, and don't even think the captain did you a favor by keeping the details vague. That just means the questions will follow you forever. What did you imagine you'd accomplish aside from destroying at least two lives?" The face looking back at her was more cold than injured.

"You're as addicted to logic as he is, aren't you? Everything has to have a plan and a reason, a goal. Well much as I'd love to say nothing and leave you wondering, I'll tell you I didn't think all that much about it at the time."

"Oh, please. You made a call that is fucking up concentric circles of people and you didn't _think_ much about it?"

Jenna shook her head in sarcastic wonder. "Oh right, I'll bet that someone from such an unrefined age as the 21st century never just struck out impulsively in anger."

In spite of herself Leo shifted a bit, and tried to hide it. "Maybe I have, but I'd never do something like you did. I'd never lay waste to other lives just because I could." Leo was surprised, but not, by the other woman's bitter laughter.

"It's so easy to be _righteous _ when you have everything you want. But what if you might not have it for long? What if you found it was going to be taken away? Whose life wouldn't you destroy to stop it? And if it happened, what damage wouldn't you do to avenge it?"

Leo didn't have an answer. This woman was closer to the mark than she wanted to admit. Nonetheless she tried to sound superior. "Maybe that's the difference between us. You did it for a mutual mistake you and Data made three years ago. Nothing was taken from you now."

Jenna appeared to be tiring of the debate. "A 'mutual mistake'. That sounds like an android talking. You have no idea what it was to me, why I waited so long, and what I hoped to find. You have no idea what was taken from me now. And you have no hope of convincing me you're not capable of doing exactly the same thing. There's not much difference between us, Lieutenant, so don't kid yourself. We both know you'd blow up half a galaxy to keep him." She said it with a certainty that shook Leo, because in the darkest part of her she shared it. Without another word Jenna D'Sora turned on her heel and disappeared into the shuttlecraft where the pilot was waiting impatiently, her parting words working themselves into a chill inside Leo that took the better part of the day to dissipate.

Back in her office under the extremely disapproving gaze of the captain (who didn't need a log entry to tell him what she'd been up to), Leo finally got down to processing the beginnings of the returned crew evaluation schedules that were coming in from the department commanders. Now it was her turn to contact the various crew with the times and places where they would be told just how wonderful, mediocre, or wretched their performance was rated. As Leo's review was also in the offing, she could only hope that Picard didn't share Jenna D'Sora's powers of observation.

* * *

That night when she returned to their quarters after a hefty dose of self-imposed overtime (penance?) Leo was quiet and uneasy, as if she was sure Data could tell not only what she'd done but what a hypocrite she was. He couldn't love her but he could respect her, and that respect had taken the place of love in the hierarchy of things Leo would rather die than lose. The next day, at 0900, Data would board the shuttle that would take him to the Daystrom Institute, and while she almost completely accepted that things would turn out well Leo couldn't stop acting as if this were her last chance to be worthy of Data in any way he was capable of wanting her. Suddenly she didn't want to go to Ten Forward and join the good-luck party that had been organized by their friends and crewmates. 

"Are you not feeling well?" Data inquired after a long silent interval following her arrival. He had been packing a few "necessaries", as he called them. Books and music files and a small holographic image of her he'd insisted she allow him to record.

"You can't forget what I look like, so what's the point?" she'd asked him at the time.

"Remembering and experiencing are very different neural experiences," he'd answered, running a hand along her arm to illustrate his point. "And where interactive experience is not possible, visual experience must suffice."

He hadn't mentioned Jenna D'Sora's departure though Leo knew for a fact he'd heard all about the final exchange in the shuttle bay… nobody had looser lips than a shuttle pilot. She knew Data wasn't just ignoring it to be nice. He accepted it as he did all of Leo's transgressions, a necessary part of who she was (which would never be anywhere near perfect).

"I'm fine, Data. I'm doing as best I can with this, and I'm really not determined to expect the worst. I just don't feel much like celebrating."

"Our friends are not 'celebrating', they are marking my departure with a group gesture of good will and 'good luck'. For both of us." He was concerned for Leo in his absence, regardless of the outcome, knowing she'd shut herself off on her own just as she'd been when he met her. There was no need for her to deprive herself in that way, he believed, and being left to her own isolated devices would allow her to be disturbed by the sort of unreasonable imaginings she was prey to when nobody was permitted close enough to distract her.

"I am concerned, Geordi," Data had told his best friend that afternoon upon hearing of Leo's confrontation with Jenna. It was unlike her to engage in cruel behavior for its own sake. "When Leo isolates herself, as she will certainly do when I have gone, her perspective may be damaged. She has admitted to me herself that she requires the input of others to keep from 'whirling into the Twilight Zone', but finds it difficult to find others with whom she may connect deeply. I believe you may know her well enough that you will be able to engage her without causing her to retreat further."

"I'll make sure she doesn't go wandering off into a black hole, Data," Geordi assured him with a warm smile and a pat on the shoulder. "I know she doesn't really want to go there anyway. She'll be fine, I promise."

* * *

"Okay, D, yeah let's go. It wouldn't hurt me to absorb a little more of that widespread optimism that seems to have drugged the senior staff." She rose from the sofa where she'd been reading, not thinking about what to wear. Her uniform would be good enough, she supposed. 

"May I ask a favor?" Data ventured.

"Anything, you know that."

"Would you wear the shirt that bears the image of the singer you admire, 'Tina Turner'? You often speak of her courage and perseverance when facing adversity. I believe that would be an appropriate theme for our gathering."

Without comment Leo disappeared into the bedroom to change. Data hoped, as fervently as an android was able, that the image of her most treasured icon would 'make her brave', as Leo had often said it did. Leo was hoping the same thing, though neither of them mentioned it.

After the party Leo and Data returned to their quarters determined to behave as if nothing was out of he ordinary. Data's romantic overtures were welcomed with warmth that stopped just short of what he'd planned.

"I don't want a going-away present, D," she'd told him simply, knowing he'd understand. Instead he joined her in bed to "cuddle" (a human habit he found he rather enjoyed as it allowed him to fully concentrate on Leo's tactile aspects, something he'd found little opportunity for of late).

"I want to stay awake all night, like you do. I want to be completely aware of you, everything about you, every second," Leo told him as he ran light fingers through her hair and over her skin.

"I will be aware for both of us. Whatever you know of me is enough. Do not struggle against sleep, Leo. It is something you need because of who you are."

She made an unhappy sound. "Sometimes I think if you really knew who I was you'd run like hell."

"Leora Eileen," he said with the tone that never allowed her to look away, "I know exactly who you are. I know you sometimes do things that you regret only in retrospect. I know you are not 'perfectly perfect'. It does not matter. The sum of who and what you are can absorb what is not perfect and leave what is worth knowing, and worth being with. If I cannot love you, what I have found with you makes me wish that I could."

"Oh shit, D," Leo buried her face in his shoulder. "how is it you can sweet talk me better than any man I ever knew?"

He kissed her hair. "I do not know. I know only that I would love no other."

The next morning at 0830 Data reported to the ready room as required of any senior crew member taking leave of duty, no matter how temporarily. Leo was deliberately hard at work on personnel matters.

"I have come to request leave to execute my transfer to the Daystrom Institute, Captain."

Picard stood, trying not to cast an eye into the small office where he knew his administrative exec was struggling with far more than ship's responsibilities.

"Granted, Mr. Data. We all await your return and will be glad of it when it happens."

"Thank you, sir. And thank you, again, for all you have done. I hope to be worthy of the effort."

The captain stepped around the desk to place a hand on Data's shoulder. "You already have been, Data, many times over. Now if you don't mind I think I'll check in with Number One." He left without another word, having determined to maneuver Leo out of her display of forced professionalism, for god's sake.

She stared at her viewscreen as if searching for the meaning of life in the minutiae of the records of one ensign McGraw in Life Sciences.

"I must go."

"It's not as if I don't know." She looked up at him, hoping desperately to tap into the same confident, dry-eyed restraint that she'd displayed at their first parting that day at the Academy. "I guess we'll always have Paris," she offered lamely as Data took her hand and pulled her to her feet into an embrace that was the very same one she remembered from that day.

"Á bientôt," he whispered in her ear, then released her and walked away exactly as he'd done on Earth so long ago. Forever, it seemed to both of them, and for Leo forever stretched in front of her now as well, one day at a time. She returned to her work, not losing her grip until some time after she heard the captain return. She believed, she really did, she had achieved the faith that everyone insisted she should embrace. It was a cold substitute for what she really wanted.

The almost-calm sound of Leo's quiet tears reached Captain Picard as he sat composing his long-planned letter of vehement protest to the Federation High Council. Though it required considerable effort he remained where he was, without comment, choosing to spare them both the indignity of a mutual display of their utter inequality to the circumstances so intolerably beyond their control.


	20. Mother knows best

Commander Bruce Maddox extended a convivial greeting at the preliminary meeting as if the project at hand were a collaboration between equals and not an invasion of privacy. "Welcome back to Daystrom, Commander Data. It's good to see you again."

Data's response was more formal. "Commander Maddox," he nodded in acknowledgment as they shook hands, "with all due respect, I am afraid I am unable to return the compliment." Maddox appeared more disappointed than offended.

"If you're still concerned about my methodology, Mr. Data, let me assure you that both my knowledge and my technical skills have been considerably refined since we last met. You have nothing to worry about."

"Unless I am mistaken, the reason for my presence here has been predicated by an anonymous rumor and not a recent advance in positronic cybernetic theory. Your professional refinements notwithstanding, that fact enhances neither my confidence nor your credibility. I am here against my will. I am aware that were it not for the supremacy of Federation statute I would be dismantled and studied as a malfunctioning machine. I will cooperate fully with every aspect of your inquiry, so far as I am bound by law and duty to do, but I do not consider us to be colleagues."

"I'm sorry you consider our relationship adversarial."

Data considered this for a moment, then commented "I find it curious, Commander, that while my desire and ability to engage in interpersonal relationships is considered indicative of a malfunction, you nonetheless wish our 'relationship' to be a positive one. That would seem to be in conflict with your objective."

Maddox was obviously unhappy with this observation. With increased experience Data's social skills seemed to have assimilated the very human ability to be a smartass. No doubt a behavior copied from others and accessed under circumstances he believed to be appropriate. Amazing, really, but only indirectly related to the matter at hand. "Mr. Data, the 'objective' is nothing more sinister than to evaluate your recent behavior vis-à-vis your personal relationship with Lt. O'Reilly in the context of your behavioral history. We would do the same under different clinical conditions for any Starfleet personnel."

"That is not entirely true, Commander."

"Oh? How so?" He wasn't pleased by the candor of this more fully developed Data .

"If I were an organic being, my involvement in an intimate interpersonal relationship would not be questioned, regardless of species."

This line of reasoning wasn't unexpected. Maddox smiled and gestured dismissively. "Please, Data, we both know this is different."

Data's face was transformed by a look of acknowledgment, of understanding something he hadn't quite grasped until now. "I have been told that 'this is different' are the three magic words upon which every hypocrisy in history depends."

"And who told you that?" Maddox wanted to know, clearly taken aback.

"Someone in whose credibility I have unqualified confidence."

Seeing that he was not going to elaborate further, and the conversation, such as it was, was going nowhere, Maddox finished the meeting.

"Very well, Commander Data, have it your way. Report back to this office at 1400 hours for your preliminary interview with Dr. Tainer, who will be acting as non-affiliated expert in your evaluation. I believe you are acquainted."

"That is correct. Dr. Tainer assisted Dr. Noonien Soong in the process of my development and construction. She will prove a valuable asset to your work." Beyond that recognition Data betrayed not a hint of deeper familiarity.

"Well I'm glad to have _someone_ on board to whom you are somewhat less of a determined enigma than you are to me."

Ignoring the comment, Data inquired, "Am I to understand that Admiral Halftel will not be taking part in the evaluation?"

Maddox shifted uncomfortably as if forced to give up a point. "Given the protest Captain Picard has filed regarding the admiral's alleged personal bias against you and Lieutenant O'Reilly it was decided his participation might be counterproductive."

"I see. Am I free to go now?"

This exaggerated compliance was becoming annoying. "Yes, yes, of course. You have the run of the facilities. It's not as if you're a prisoner here."

Data cocked his head and blinked as he did when pointing out a direct contradiction in logic. "It was my understanding that I would be transported here in custody if I did not report as scheduled. Perhaps there was some miscommunication in the Admiral's orders to Captain Picard."

Confronted with an android "playing dumb" (just _how_ an android could "play dumb" would require an entirely different study to determine) Maddox knew that Data understood the situation exquisitely well.

"Enough. Report back here at 1400 hours."

"As you wish."

Before Data was out the door Maddox added, "And Commander Data? Just so there is no 'miscommunication'… you are prohibited from communicating with anyone outside of the Institute until further notice."

"Understood."

Yes, both of them "understood" completely.

* * *

"Lieutenant O'Reilly, subspace message," the computer announced, snapping Leo from her reading. 

After her mini-crying jag following Data's departure the day before she really was feeling a bit better. This was helped a great deal by the fact that Captain Picard was refraining from asking "how are you doing" in that particularly _meaningful _way that some of her crewmates had adopted. Not Geordi, of course, who knew her too well to go there, but Will, and Beverly, and of course Deanna. In fact Deanna had tried to schedule a "visit" for her barely an hour after Data's shuttle left. For Leo there was nothing to discuss, and she was doing as well as was possible under the new and foreign circumstance of Data's absence from her daily life. She'd managed to answer the well-intended inquiries graciously so far but couldn't swear that would continue if _they_ continued.

"It is what it is, Deanna, it sucks and when life sucks you deal with it, nothing deeper than that," she'd told the counselor, thanking providence that Deanna was Betazoid and so would take her at her word. Leo had never been a big fan of shrinks or what she considered to be "self-indulgent navel-gazing" and while she knew Deanna meant well, and was useful on occasion, most of the time her professional interest was more annoying than welcome.

Leo had taken the rest of the day of Data's departure and all of this day to finish zapping the review appointment notifications to the crew, which kept her plenty busy and her mind occupied. During the day she told herself hey all in all, it could be worse. But once she got "home" the uglies came out to play.

"Could be worse", hah. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. The only way it could be worse was if Data's head were returned to her in a box. She was more annoyed than depressed, and as hours passed the annoyance grew until it encompassed virtually every aspect of her existence. She hated the hypocritical Federation, she hated the brain-dead protocol-worshipping Starfleet hierarchy, she hated the notoriety-grubbing cyberneticists, particularly "Loose" (as in his scientific standards) Bruce Maddox. She hated nanobyte minds wedded to Galaxy class egos, and she reserved an exquisite, white-hot-nasty-murderous hatred for Admiral Anthony Fucking Half-wit-ass-jerkoff-tel. If hate were a phaser she could vaporize the universe, and would do it with a bottle of Jack in one hand and a smile on her face. Spot must have been reading the vibe because she was nowhere to be seen.

"Well who the fuck is it, computer?" Leo had been taking some comfort in heaping verbal abuse on the ship's computer, though being inorganic it was probably the furthest from being related to her troubles that could be imagined.

"Dr. Juliana Tainer from the Daystrom Institute." It was hard to really enjoy tearing up the computer-lady voice when it refused to acknowledge the insult. Once the name sunk in, Leo's evil pastime was forgotten.

"On visual!" she shouted and vaulted to her desk. The face on her viewscreen was so calm, so elegant and pleasant, that Leo felt herself calm down immediately.

"Leora O'Reilly. I am Juliana Tainer. What a pleasure to meet you."

"Dr. Tainer, I'm afraid you caught me at an unprofessional time." Leo looked down sheepishly at her sloppy t shirt and sweatpants.

"Not at all, Leo. In fact I apologize for intruding on your personal time. May I call you Leo? I'd like it if you called me Juliana."

So this was a social call. Well it wasn't as if Leo didn't know who this woman was to Data. "Okay, Juliana. Sure call me Leo, it's my name isn't it?"

"Forgive me for being so familiar, but during what passed for our initial interview Data told me quite a lot about you."

This information gave rise to immediate worries. "Dr. Tainer are you on a secure channel?" It wouldn't do for the powers that be at the Daystrom Institute, and by connection Starfleet and the Federation, to have a record of too intimate a conversation between herself and the "non-affiliated expert" on Data's case. Juliana's smile was the very image of Data's as she explained, "I've written a subroutine that will block the master computer from observing certain of my communications. This conversation will never have happened." It was Leo's turn to smile.

"You Soongs are a resourceful bunch, aren't you?"

"We are as circumstances make us. I wanted to contact you and let you know that Data is fine, that Commander Maddox and his team show no indication of being interested in circumventing the Federation statutes cited by Captain Picard. I think this will be very straightforward."

Unable to restrain herself, Leo blurted, "So when's he coming back?"

"I said straightforward, not immediate. Perhaps a week, perhaps a few days more. I'm making sure the examination is very thorough."

A surge of resentment shot through Leo, who read this as a statement of support for Starfleet's "malfunction" theory. "How very efficient. God knows we don't want Data stumbling into an adult consenting relationship with inadequate Federation supervision."

Once again Juliana's tolerance was a mirror of Data's. Or perhaps it was the other way around.

"I want to make sure the Federation harbors no reservations that will lead to another such invasion of your lives."

"I'm sorry, Dr. Tainer," and the fleeting look of disappointment moved Leo to correct herself. "Juliana. I guess I'm so used to ignorance, everything sounds like a new assault. I should know better."

"Please, don't apologize. I'm sure you're feeling very disoriented and unlikely to trust anyone you don't know."

"Well I have to say it's good to know there's someone capable and qualified to watch over Loose Bruce." She explained the appellation, and was rewarded with another, sweeter, smile from Dr. Tainer.

"What?" Leo wanted to know.

"Data has told me that your displeasure is typically expressed quite cleverly ."

"He's pretty generous in his characterization of my dark side. But you haven't said why you've hailed me. Is there something I need to know, something Data needs?"

"No, Leo. I only wanted to reassure you regarding the inquiry."

Leo snorted. "'Inquiry', yeah right. Just call it an inquisition and be done with it." Oh, how she wished they'd be done with it. "I'm sorry, Juliana, I'm in a real nasty mood right now. I'm just not used to being one-on-one with Catzilla." A quiet, musical laugh was the immediate response. Leo was realizing how similar the tone and modulation of Data's speech was to his "mother's". Genetics or positronics, moms passed things on. This recognition triggered a reflexive response. "Is he really okay? They haven't pulled him apart or unscrewed his head or anything? I trust you to tell me the truth."

"No, dear," and suddenly Leo felt very like a daughter-in-law, "he really is quite whole though as annoyed as positronics will allow. And you'll be happy to know that Commander Maddox's skills in research and analysis are considered to have improved greatly in the years since that first unfortunate incident. Though I can't say his priorities are any better; his idea of what constitutes a 'malfunction' is rather imprecise. Data is putting up with things as patiently as you might expect, and I assure you the Daystrom Institute has every intention of abiding by the rules set by your captain. But Data has expressed concern about _you_ and how effectively you're coping with all of this, and has asked me to report your condition to him."

"My 'condition'?" Leo forced a laugh. "Who knew an android could be such a worrywart. When things get difficult he's always prepared for me to go supernova." She thought for a moment, and added "I guess maybe because I've done it more than once. Well tell him please I'm eating and sleeping and working and everything, all that stuff he benchmarks normal human behavior by. Of course I'm a little grouchy, okay I'm actually a real bitch to deal with, but our friends take it in stride and the rest of the crew know when to duck." The truth was she'd hardly slept at all last night and finally had dragged her bedding out to the sofa, displacing Spot who grunted with marked displeasure. She didn't sleep any better on the sofa, but at least she couldn't be mocked by an empty place on the bed beside her.

A wild thought occurred to Leo. "Is Data there with you? Can I talk to him?"

"I'm afraid Data is prohibited from contacting you or anyone else during his evaluation, and I have to be careful how much tinkering I do with the communications system here. I'm sorry. " Juliana Tainer's pleasant expression hadn't faltered, even so Leo could see her regret was genuine.

"Yeah, I heard about the gag order. What are they so afraid of, it's not as if we can help him cheat."

Oh my god, there was Data's tolerant smile, right on this woman's face. "I have to admit I agree with them on this. The only way to ensure accurate readings is for Data's systems to be evaluated in a near-vacuum. Just because he doesn't have emotions doesn't mean he can't be distracted. With tens of millions of operations going on per second, there's no need to add more. We'd all like this to be over as soon as possible."

"Well almost all of us, anyway. I've gotten to where I believe that they'll play by the rules and all, but I can't get past the thought that Halftel and his crew will find a reason to drag it out until they can find a way to spin the results in their favor."

At that Juliana's eyes narrowed slyly. "That's why I'm here, isn't it? Captain Picard shared your concerns, and I told him that more than anyone present I can accurately identify when there are no further tests to be made or variables to consider. Trust me, this will go on not a moment longer than necessary." Leo was beginning to like this woman a great deal, quite apart from her connection to Data. "I'm sorry, Leo, but I have to terminate this communication. My improvised masked channel can only be maintained for a short time before it might be detected. I'm glad we had the chance to talk. I'm certain we'll have the chance to get to know each other much better before long. You're very dear to Data, though I'm sure you know that. His attachment to you is very different from the affinity he's expressed for other humans, even his closest friends."

Leo masked her embarrassment with a joke. She wondered if he'd told Juliana about that habit, as well. "Well for christsake don't say _that_ in the wrong company, will you?"

With an intimate smile, and a surprisingly roguish wink Juliana answered, "It will be our secret. Tainer out."

The viewscreen went blank just as Leo was going to ask if she'd be in touch again. Don't be so goddamn greedy, she scolded herself. How many people have been sticking their necks on the block since this started, and all you want is _more_. It was getting late and she had duty in the morning, including processing all schedule conflicts reported by personnel so she could reschedule their evaluations. Death by email, she used to call it back in the day. Oh well, she'd be out of a job if it ever got _too_ easy.

Leo had been living in Data's quarters long enough that she didn't need to ask the computer for light in the bedroom and simply reached into the closet for her pajamas. Since Data left she'd carefully stored the "originals" given to her by Paul, and had begun wearing those that Data had replicated for her shortly after her arrival on the Enterprise. The distinction was clear to her, though she figured anyone else would call her a mental case. She fumbled with the hanger and the pj's fell to the floor of the closet.

"Shit, computer 1/8 light," Leo reached to the bottom of the closet and pulled back sharply when her fingers collided with a soft velvety surface and then sank into something soft and squishy. Spot was snoozing out on the sofa, and anyway she'd have to have gone bald to be whatever Leo's hand had contacted. She tossed her pj's on the bed and lifted up whatever it was she'd discovered. How long had it been there? She didn't generally look at the closet floor so it could have been a day, or a month, or since before she got here.

It looked kind of like a cylindrical pillow, covered with soft fabric. It felt sort of like a beanbag but no, whatever was inside was fine, like sand, but much lighter, and the whole thing was very floppy. Turning it over she found a note pinned to it. A note? Who had paper around here, besides… then Leo recognized it as a piece of her notepaper she'd brought along from her time. Purple, and bordered with stars and lightning bolts. She'd had a fat block of it, and shoved it in the box with her books. Data had had to replicate a pen for her, as nobody actually "wrote" much around here. And a safety pin? She knew she didn't have any of those. Also replicated?

"Computer, full light." She peered at the note, written in a clear precise hand.

"Leo," it read, "This is intended to help you sleep." What was she supposed to do, swallow it? She read on: "I have been told its texture and substance have a calming effect upon humans. I will be back soon. Do not worry. Everything will be fine." There was a mark below that, as if a word had been stopped before it quite got started, then still further below that the single initial 'D'."

Smiling, Leo laid the note on the bureau with the safety pin re-attached. Familiar things to keep her grounded. He knew her so well. The usual things someone might rely upon to maintain an emotional connection just weren't available to her. Data had no discernible fragrance, so there was nothing to keep nearby to fight the "alone" feeling. Two days, just two days he'd been gone and she was ready to scream from loneliness and boredom. Though she could easily download Data's files from the ship's computer to construct a holographic image as he'd done with her, it would only help remind her the "real thing" was elsewhere. Nuts. She'd never been a clingy dependent type but right now it felt like a part of her was missing, even as she hated to admit it.

And to help fill the void, Data had given her what seemed to be the 24th century equivalent of a teddy bear. "I do love you to bits," Leo announced to the empty air as she got changed for bed. Then telling her new "companion", "C'mon, Teddy, let's get some sleep," she picked up the bedclothes and went out to the sofa. Spot glowered from a nearby chair.

"Live with it, Catzilla. _I_ have to." She wrapped up in the blanket and stretched out on the sofa on her side, clutching "Teddy" under her chin. It seemed to absorb and share her body heat rather than reflecting it back at her. Mmm, warm and cuddly and very, very soft. Not at all for the first time Leo considered how insanely lucky she was to be attached to someone who, having accurately recognized nearly every aspect of her personality, kept it recorded for future reference. Forever. Organic human males… who needs 'em. She was sound asleep within minutes.


	21. Questions and answers

Synapses were examined, conduction measured. Endless loops of stimuli, feedback, telemetry. Gradually, and to his surprise, he found that the only questions that surprised him were his own. They rose in the spaces between the endless answers elicited by the questions of others. How much _could_ be measured?

Where lay the difference between before and now, in what units of measure could it be expressed clearly? And, question within question, why and how did he come to this unique awareness that there _was_ a difference? Because for the first time he was aware of an absence worthy of its own definition and eluding all others. Absence was understood, but this, this, _negation of presence_, yes that nearly captured it, absence was a single concept but the consciousness of it was the difference now and it eluded his reasoning. The condition of belonging, the condition of existential connectedness, these were new in his experience, and he was unable to ignore them only because of their absence. He had believed himself to grasp the concept of "complete", but as days passed it was its _absence_ that fixated him. Expressing his confusion would be dangerous under the current conditions. Irony, a concept he'd long struggled to assimilate, materialized in his consciousness as solidly as a mathematical equation. Irony: the very events that crystallized the most important questions of his life made them too dangerous to ask.

* * *

"It's been a week, Commander Maddox. I don't know what more you're hoping to find." 

"Dr. Tainer I'm well aware that this wasn't intended to be an open-ended experiment. But everything we've found tells us nothing."

Juliana Tainer shook her head with a smile. "May I call you Bruce?" She had come to be impressed with this man's earnestness, and believed he truly meant no harm to Data. Unlike the Admiral, he was dedicated, in his way, to understanding what it was that made Data unique even in the realm of positronic cybernetic theory.

"Why yes, if you like."

"Bruce, everything we've found has told us exactly what Captain Picard, Lt. O'Reilly, and Data himself have insisted: there is nothing wrong here. You'd be just as likely to discover a quantifiable answer to why humans fall in love as to discover what it is in Data's makeup that evolved enough to lead to a meaningful relationship. He was designed to develop as a social creature, and as such to internalize aspects of social behavior. Perhaps lacking emotions doesn't, in the end, prevent one from doing so. Any more than being deaf prevented Ludwig von Beethoven from writing some of history's most beautiful music."

Caught by the analogy, Maddox countered, "But he heard it in his head."

"Not in the form he created. He lacked the physiology to do so. Just as Data lacks the electrochemical physiology we know as 'emotions'.Yet he understands the behaviors and interactions that are inherent in a committed relationship and fulfills them all. How many 'emotional' beings can claim to have done the same?"

Maddox had no answer, just as he had no answer to the question, years ago, of whether Data had a soul. "I haven't gotten the answer to that."

"Perhaps it's time," Juliana suggested kindly, "to admit that the question is simply irrelevant. Unless of course you've found something that raises doubts in your own mind that Data may be malfunctioning, or about to, and poses a danger to others and a risk to Starfleet."

Where Halftel would have kept hunting for the white whale of Data's "fatal flaws" until the universe ended, Maddox's excesses lay in the realm of lust for knowledge and yes, scientific acclaim. He wasn't an ego-obsessive like his would-be colleague and wouldn't conduct research past its original intent. For him, the intent had been to establish Data's functionality and track its development. That Halftel likely had a more personal motivation frankly disgusted him.

"You know as well as I do that no such malfunction or risk exists. But Dr. Tainer, aren't you even the least bit motivated to discover why he is able to evolve past the need for certain emotions considered necessary to establishing a primary relationship?"

Data would have been gratified to hear her answer. "I believe, Bruce, that Data might ask that question himself. Maybe he'll answer it someday, and if that day comes you can be sure he will share the knowledge with you. But for now, why not let him continue his life as he wishes? Who knows what 'discoveries' that might lead to?"

Maddox sighed, but not in defeat. "Very well." After a moment he added, "It seems I've insulted Commander Data yet again to no good end."

"On the contrary. This whole unfortunate business has begun to carve in stone what the Federation has for too long believed to be penciled in the margins of its law books. With a little more help from legal experts, you and I have helped to further define the rights of non-organic beings."

"You mean the right not to have positronic evolution be labeled as dangerous?"

Juliana leaned forward with a smile and laid her hand on Maddox's arm. "My goodness, but you do remind me of my former husband. So bound by technology. I mean, Commander Maddox, what could be more precious than the right to live our lives with whomever we choose, based on our own criteria?"

Maddox smiled a bit awkwardly. "Point taken. But I still don't _get_ it…"

"You don't have to. The only two people who need to 'get it', already have."

* * *

"Commander Data, the preliminary results of your positronic systems evaluation show no evident malfunction, even considering the unusual and rapid evolution of your social and interpersonal subroutines. While we haven't yet determined the catalyst or processes for this particular branch of your development, Dr. Tainer and I feel secure in our decision to inform Starfleet and the Federation that there is no reason for you not to return to service aboard the Enterprise with your established rank and responsibilities." Naturally Maddox didn't expect a joyous outburst from his "guest", but the expression of doubt bothered him nonetheless. He really did respect Commander Data, for reasons that grew more numerous with the passage of time, and he didn't like to think of himself being cast in the lifelong role of potential nemesis. 

"You say you 'haven't yet determined the catalyst or processes'. This indicates the possible intention to continue your research at a later date. I believe you may understand that such an eventuality would be no more welcome than was this evaluation."

Juliana Tainer did a remarkable job maintaining an entirely professional demeanor. Data was impressed.

"Not at all, Commander," she assured him with a gesture toward the data pad resting on Maddox's desk. "The completeness and detail of the results we have assembled here, ensure that no further participation by you will be necessary. The information your cooperation has provided to the Daystrom Institute will prove a rich resource for further research in and of itself. There are many more variables to be explored, but whatever will be required to be analyzed is now right here at the Institute. In addition, as experts in the field of positronic cybernetics Commander Maddox and I will be presenting a joint statement to the Federation to the effect that further requirements of your presence and participation in future research, apart from your already scheduled progress downloads, would provide no benefit to the Daystrom Institute and would be little more than a fruitless infringement of your personal rights."

Data's eyebrows rose a fraction as he turned his attention to Maddox.

"I'm truly sorry to see that surprises you, Commander Data. I've made some unfortunate mistakes during our acquaintance, it's true, but I've never had anything but respect for you since very early on. I have no wish to cause you more inconvenience than has happened already."

"And what of Admiral Halftel? I am certain he does not share your good intentions."

Maddox's demeanor tightened palpably. He knew he'd been well-used by the Admiral. What he had intended as a scientific fact-finding operation had inadvertently played into some sort of personal vendetta of Halftel's, born of his earlier defeat (albeit by technical circumstances) in his original struggle with Data over control of Lal. Where Halftel regarded her loss as a tragedy of science, Maddox had also defined it as a personal loss to Data. He was restrained frpm sending a message of condolence at the time only by his belief that it would have been unwelcome coming from him. And now Maddox was more than just a little ashamed of the current events having been spawned, as Data had observed upon his arrival, by an anonymous rumor.

"Admiral Halftel's personal… opinions will be outweighed by the reputations and credentials of Dr. Tainer and myself. And as Dr. Tainer observed to me recently, what has happened here has at the very least helped to refine the notion of your rights as a fully sentient and autonomous being. Though I won't insult you by claiming I knew it from the start."

"I cannot be 'insulted', Commander Maddox. But I appreciate your candor."

After a moment of the three sitting in silence with their respective thoughts Juliana inquired, "Well Commander Data, don't you think it's time you returned to duty?"

* * *

The powers that be at Daystrom Institute sought to cover their professional embarrassment by arranging for a dignified, official transport to return Data to a rendezvous point with the Enterprise, but were surprised to discover the starship was within two days' travel at low warp speed. Unbeknownst to any of them, Captain Picard had managed to determine that their assignment to examine energy field abnormalities could be well served by "exploring the phenomena" near the sector occupied by the Daystrom Institute. So much use of energy for the advancement of cybernetic research must certainly have some effect on the surrounding space, he reasoned. 

"Who knew that human-made shifts in energy fields could qualify as naturally occurring abnormalities?" Leo had commented with amusement when he'd told her to notify Engineering to recalibrate the forward particle collectors. What Picard had (thank god) lacked in verbal expressions of support he more than made up for in practical resourcefulness.

"Madam, I don't recall requesting comment. My decisions as captain are based upon the strictest protocols and scientific guidelines of Starfleet."

"Yeah, right," she snickered as she headed to the comport in her office. A week of uneven sleep – "teddy" could only compensate so much for the echo of her rattling around her quarters alone – had eroded her powers of restraint.

"Pardon me, Lieutenant?"

"I said, 'yes sir', sir." She looked dead at him, waiting for him to blink. He didn't. Of course. "Sir," she added for the sake of style and was rewarded by the momentary clenching of his jaw.

"Anytime today, Lieutenant, if your schedule isn't too full." And O'Reilly gets the rebound.

* * *

The same day that Commander Maddox and Dr. Tainer had decided to put an end to Data's electronic dissection Deanna Troi was surprised – no, stunned – to find Leo ringing for admittance. 

"Leo. I wasn't expecting you." To say the least.

"Yeah, I know. Neither was I. Expecting me. To be here, you know?" Funny when she was around Troi she lapsed into very unprofessional speech patterns.

Remembering herself, Deanna stepped aside and invited Leo in to have a seat.

"What brings you in today?"

Leo was wildly grateful Deanna hadn't led with "How are doing?"

"I'm not exactly sure."

"Have you had difficulty on duty?"

"No, nothing like that. I mean I'm kind of tired, not always sleeping well."

"I'm sure it's difficult to adjust to being alone in your quarters. Have you been having nightmares, perhaps worrying about what might be happening at the Daystrom Institute?"

She shook her head. "Not that I remember. I mean, I really do believe he's gonna be all right with that. It's just, well, like you said. After choosing to be alone for so much of my life, suddenly I'm noticing that it feels weird. It's like I've changed but didn't _notice_ it, in my face so to speak, until now."

Deanna was smiling. "We often don't notice how we've changed until some outside force brings it into focus. You and Data have made the transition from single to couple fairly gradually, but in terms of a lifetime it is a marked contrast. Is the realization bothering you in some way?"

"Not exactly. Well, other stuff maybe. I've said and done some things I'm not proud of."

"We all do, Leo. But if they're troubling you, why don't you tell me about them."

"Well for one, I told Data I wanted to go home, to go _back_ to where I was sure of myself and understand how things worked even when they didn't work my way. He told me I hadn't been here long enough to have faith in how things could work out here even when they seemed like they wouldn't. You know, how I thought you all were caving in to Halftel and the Federation, like that. And instead of being hurt or insulted, because he can't of course, he found a way to help me feel more secure by recreating my home that I had before coming here. The woods, the house, the inside, every detail perfect."

Surprised, Deanna asked, "How did he accomplish that?"

"it would take too long to explain. But he did it, and we spent the night there while I was C2Q after Halftel accused me of wanting him dead. Which I did, by the way, but he isn't worth the jail time by a long shot." Suddenly she realized her error. "Ah, shit, I shouldn't have told you that. About Data busting me out of C2Q to go to the holodeck, I mean. I don't care _who_ knows I wish Halftel was dead as a haddock."

Covering a smile, Deanna prompted, "And you're concerned that you're too attracted to this simulation? As a denial of reality, perhaps."

"No, that's not it."

This was a lot harder than Deanna had expected. It was like chasing one of Beverly's escaped lab animals… you just had to keep following the sound of scurrying feet. Or in this case, the sound of words scurrying ahead of unformed thoughts. "Leo I can sense there is a question, or a number of them, troubling you. Perhaps the best thing would be to share them aloud, no matter how illogical they seem, in whatever order they occur to you."

Leo flopped back in the chair and took a breath. "Okay. Everything Data has done for me when I'm at my worst reminds me how much I mean to him. Data cared about me enough to do this remarkable thing in the holodeck, he saw right inside me and knew what I needed and without thinking twice he just did it. I'd never have thought of it myself, he said he wanted to create the place where I felt safe and sure so I could remember how it felt and rediscover it where I am now. Because, you see, I'd forgotten. Or I thought I did. It was all about faith, about being sure enough of myself to be sure of others, I'm not very good at describing it I guess. But he understood, _we_ knew what he was doing. So I go there, when I'm missing Data, and I feel more loved than I ever have in my life. By someone who's not even supposed to understand the concept, you know?"

"I don't understand, Leo. What you're describing could be defined as an ideal romance. Someone who knows you and acts on what he knows in the best most caring way possible." Troi sensed an internal anxiety that grew, paradoxically, with the acknowledgment of Data's devotion.

"I've never, ever known anyone that in tune with me. And it makes me wonder, I don't understand…" she trailed off, and saw Deanna waiting. "_Why_? Why me? What is it about me that brought him to a place that surprised every fine mind in this century? I'm not talking about the small minds, the prejudices, I'm talking about the people that know Data and love him. Shouldn't the person who drives this amazing change in him be, well, be more _equal_ to the distinction? I mean, he's _perfect_, isn't he, he'll never be jealous or selfish or spiteful. He's incapable of all the things that make someone undesirable to be with. So shouldn't he be drawn to someone who's at least close to that?"

"Nobody is like Data, Leo. You know that. He's attracted to humanity because of its endless variations. It's seemed to me, as someone who's known him for some time, that the ability to choose the positive over the negative when you're capable of either is what makes humans desirable to him as friends. Not so different from you and me."

"But that's it, I'm not able to _do_ that. I've been just as likely to go one way as the other. And I've done the other, and recently, and I don't know why it doesn't matter to him."

"Why don't you tell me. You know nothing you say here can alter my opinion of you."

Leo shook her head as if to clear it. "That's what he says, no matter how I'm acting, no matter what kind of neurotic bitch I am, he says 'nothing you can say can change what is between us'. I just wonder, where's the line? How long can he believe that?"

Deanna straightened in her chair, projecting the therapist persona she knew was sometimes necessary to direct revelation from meandering. "Leo tell me what it is you did. I can sense that something specific, something concrete has happened to bring these concerns to light."

Leo told her then, told her about her final confrontation with Jenna D'Sora, about the satisfaction it gave her even knowing it would gain nothing. And she told her about what Jenna had said, that they were not so different, and that she knew it was true, and that it made her wonder all the more how Data could want her.

"Have you discussed this with him?"

"No, but he knows about it. I know he does."

"And has he let you know what he thinks?"

"Yeah. He told me he knows who I am and that I'm not perfect, and what's not perfect is made up for by the rest that makes me worth being with. Like that."

"I don't understand, Leo. What about this makes you so uneasy?"

Leo was, finally, unable to hold back the fear. "What if he changes his mind? What if after a while he decides I'm not worth the analogous effort?"

Deanna sat for a moment, deciding how best to approach the issue. It was obvious Leo didn't feel deserving of Data's commitment because of her perception of being unequal to his "perfection", and that she feared the contrast would someday become overwhelming to him.

"What would help you overcome these feelings of uncertainty, Leo? What knowledge would help you accept that Data doesn't require you to be as 'perfectly perfect' as you see him to be?"

She shifted. "It sounds crazy, I know. But since this whole thing started, and especially since he went to the Daystrom Institute, I can't get over wishing they _could_ figure out the process of what it was that made him decide he wanted to be with me in every typical human way, but with such atypical perfection. If I knew how, I'd know why, and then I wouldn't keep beating myself up with questions." She was surprised to see Deanna smiling. "What, you think this is amusing?"

"No, not at all," Deanna shook her head, "I was just wondering if Keiko and Miles O'Brien needed the same answers before they got married. Or any other devoted couple for that matter. Leo, _everyone_ wonders what is it that attracts and keeps that person most dear to them, how that person overcomes the knowledge of flaws and imperfections to love them 'anyway'. And the answer usually, almost always, is that it's you as a whole package, as an entire being, that is appealing to another. Flaws and all. You haven't considered the possibility that Data might be less stimulated by anyone as 'perfectly perfect' as he is. It's fairly obvious to anyone who's known him for a length of time that it's the unpredictability of humans that's one of their strongest appeals. Apart from that knowledge, though, I think you're in exactly the same position as anyone who has every been in love with anyone else. These are questions that might never be answered, or may be answered in time. But the most important answer, the analogous answer, if you will, is that maybe it doesn't matter. Aren't you fond of the phrase 'there ain't nothing but is'?"

"Well, yeah."

"Well what _is_, is that you are in a relationship that has happened naturally, that brings fulfillment and contentment to both you and Data. Does the 'why' really matter so much, as long as you're able to navigate day to day and treat each other well?"

"Well, yeah, I guess."

"I would never dismiss any of your concerns, but perhaps the best course right now is to relax and enjoy what you have, and not worry about where it came from. If any difficulties do arise, it's the here and now that will matter, not the then and there."

Ashamed, that's what she was, ashamed to be confronted by a shrink with her own hard logic. "I guess I am a real dodo."

"No, Leo, you're just human. And luckily you're balanced in your relationship by someone undistracted by emotion. It has seemed so far to work pretty well."

"So you're saying I don't suck."

Laughter overcame Deanna's professional demeanor. "Not at all, Leo, and that's my personal as well as my professional opinion. Now is there anything further you need to discuss?"

"Nope I guess that covers it. Thanks Deanna. For a shrink you're really Socratic."

"Thank you, I think."

And as Leo returned to her quarters to spend another night on the sofa, the opposite of absence was a mere ten hours away.


	22. Reunion

"Commander LaForge, there's an Andorian transport, the Aleutia, hailing us . It doesn't appear to be a distress call."

"Put it on visual." Geordi couldn't imagine what an Andorian transport would want from them. They were low-level traders, ferrying basic necessities between primarily new Federation settlements. There were several such in nearby sectors, but none of them of interest to the Enterprise. Then again, Geordi's imagination in general had taken a beating since he was assigned overnight watch at the conn, leaving Lieutenant Commander B'Rek to serve in Science and Engineering and as second officer in Data's absence. Though he'd been disappointed not to have been chosen to serve in Data's place, he didn't take it personally. An emotionally neutral Vulcan was closest to what Captain Picard was used to as second officer, and Captain Picard didn't respond well to changes in his daily routine. Funny how someone who could think on his feet in the most hellish situations could be thrown into disarray with a change in his personal environment. Though Geordi enjoyed the Big Chair as much as any other senior staff did, the graveyard watch played havoc with his circadian rhythms and he wondered how long it would take for him to get back to normal once he returned to regular duty. All of these musings were blown from his head when the image materialized on the bridge viewscreen.

"I request permission to come aboard and return to active duty."

Geordi sprang straight out of the Big Chair as if it were on fire. "Data! You're back! You're in one piece!"

Data appeared puzzled, and he looked himself over. "I concur with both observations. Are you all right, Commander LaForge? You seem a bit… at loose ends."

"I'm a bit _exhausted_ from working the overnight watch! Hell yeah, Data, permission granted!" The rest of the bridge crew, minimal at this hour when most of the complement was asleep, covered smiles and snickers. "Well it's 3 am, after all," Geordi informed them. "Have the Aleutia beam you right to the bridge." Data's response was hesitant.

"Do you wish me to relieve you of the remainder of your watch?" Though he rotated to overnight on an intermittent schedule and under special circumstances, it wasn't Data's typical watch.

"No, Data. I just wanted to welcome you back."

"Ah. In that case, Geordi, I must respectfully decline. If it is all right with you, I would prefer to return to my quarters first." More varied chuckles from the bridge crew.

"That's enough!" Geordi barked at them. Or tried to. His suggestion _was_ supremely stupid, given the circumstances of Data's absence. "Sorry, Commander Data. Of course, return to quarters and report to the captain and Lt. O'Reilly in the morning to process your return to duty." Now the laughter wasn't even subdued. "All right, all right, people, control yourselves." Liberties were taken on graveyard watch that would never be dared at any other time. _Or_ with Commander B'Rek at the conn. "Oh, you know what I mean Data. Welcome back. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Thank you, Commander. Data out." The viewscreen went blank, and as Geordi returned to the Big Chair with a smile of satisfaction his mind wandered to formal fashions. He'd be damned if he'd be wearing his uniform as Data's best man.

* * *

"Computer, 1/8 light." The command was barely a whisper. He expected her to be asleep in the bedroom and that the light wouldn't reach her. Though Data's visual processors were capable of amplifying ambient light to multiple powers, Leo's intolerance of _any_ light at night, even the glow from a chronometer panel, meant that all computer displays were deactivated when their quarters were "asleep", even though he was not (his in-bed reading by 1/8 light was discontinued promptly at 11pm; any other work was accomplished by a direct link with the ship's computer or his PADD).

As he quietly set down his travel bag of "necessaries" Data's attention was caught by the sofa. To his surprise Leo was wrapped up in a blanket and sleeping soundly. A glance into the bedroom showed a bed that clearly had been undisturbed for some time. He approached the sofa carefully, and closer inspection revealed Leo was tightly hugging the pillow he had left for her. In fact her face was half-squashed into it, rendering her breath sounds stifled and snuffly. He wanted to let her sleep, he honestly disliked disturbing what he considered to be a regenerative state essential to her well being. But he was unable to restrain himself. It had been a week, seven days of disconnect from belonging. He knelt next to the sofa and laid a hand on her hair, fingers tracing the delicate strands. He wondered if this might be analogous to a human sipping water after a long thirst. He had suffered no pain but something undeniable, if indefinable, was relieved when he touched her.

She made no sound, there was no typically discernible movement or murmur of waking. Instead in a single motion she reached for Data and pulled herself half off the sofa, tangled in blankets, "teddy" ignored as that miserable aching absence was finally filled by its opposite. Finally she managed a single word after pulling her face from his shoulder, "Okay." He, they, everything in the future.

"Yes."

She'd never felt hunger in his kisses until now, and was beyond questioning what new analog might have been achieved. For his part Data felt the need to regain every part of their connection simultaneously, the knowledge that re-established presence. It wasn't emotional, but it was elemental. Then he felt the inner hesitation, barely the length of a single of her heartbeats, the doubt that no time or amount of reassurance could completely extinguish. He pulled her off of the sofa, held her head-to-toe against him as he lay down on the floor, leaning over her to stroke her face. "This is not a welcome home present," he told her between kisses, alternating deep and delicate lip touches on her face, her neck, her mouth, to feel in his way what he couldn't feel in hers, "you are not using me," he shushed her barely-begun words with more kisses and caresses, "to touch you, to know you, to feel and hear your body, _that_ is my pleasure, you do not need to understand it, to feel your love for me in your substance and see it in your presence is all the 'pleasure' I require. Believe me, Leora Eileen, have faith, that even if I could feel physical pleasure in every human aspect _this_," he pressed his face into her breast and both of them felt her breath and heartbeat alter, "this is where the meaning lies. Words can lie, human emotions and nerve endings can mislead, but heart and blood and breath cannot, and I cannot conceive of any greater definition of pleasure than their honesty. You 'give' me more than you can imagine, and your absence from my life cannot be an option if I am to continue live as I want to. "

Leo was in tears, taken by surprise not only by his sudden return but by the intensity of his insistence that she was as important to his life as he was to hers. That any other human woman might not interpret it that way was irrelevant. Everything was irrelevant. He was home, and the balance was corrected.

"Data, D, I," she tried to tell him things she couldn't form the words for but he smiled _that_ smile and lay beside her, one hand reaching under her pj's to feel her warmth and texture, he'd always been intrigued by the her physical responses and kept internal track of how slowly or quickly or in what configuration his varied touch could transform the velvet of a flat nipple to an insistent point, or bring her heartbeat from calm to racing. He recorded that now, unbuttoned the flannel to replace his hand with his mouth, rewarded by her movement and sound as she pressed closer into him. His eagerness for what she finally understood freed her to touch and embrace him as if he were human, something she realized she'd never actually done because she didn't think it registered in him, now he'd finally persuaded her it did even if it wasn't in a way she completely understood.

"I would love no other," he whispered against her skin, repeating the phrase like a verbal kiss every few inches until he arrived again at her mouth. He repeated it against the tears on her face, into her hair, against her ears as she pulled at his uniform and finally there was nothing but skin and silken polymer, equally warm and equally welcoming.

* * *

In the morning she woke still wrapped in Data's arms but in the bed she'd been unable to bear without him.

"Good morning," he told her in that news-announcer voice.

"Yeah," she agreed and stretched and whimpered in the waking-up routine she'd foregone last night. As always, Data loosened his grip enough to give her room but not so much he couldn't share in the event.

"Back to work," she reminded them both, though of course Data had never forgotten even in the midst of their reunion. He'd simply learned the value of the term "back burner", a concept which had eluded him for so long. Just because one possesses parallel processing capabilities doesn't mean everything has to be on an equal level at all times.

When they were both in uniform and Leo was having her morning tea, Data approached Leo with something hidden in his hand. "I would like to show you something," he told her.

Aha. He opened his hand, and in it lay a tiny black box. He didn't waste any time, she thought to herself.

"Take it," he prompted her and she did, keeping one eye on him as she pried the lid open. What she found inside, however, wasn't what she was expecting. Silly woman, when had Data ever been "expected"? Inside the box in a nest of synthetic foam lay a tiny, _very _tiny, square of silicon. Barely visible were tracks of metal on its surface.

"I'm sorry, what _is_ it?" Before she could be aware of her expression she saw that her disappointment was mirrored in Data's own face.

"It is a gift from Juliana Tainer."

"Your mom."

"Yes."

"But what _is_ it?" She closed the box and handed it back to him as slowly as possible.

"It is, in simple terms, an 'emotion chip'. My father, Noonien Soong, had not perfected it at the time he inserted it in my brother Lore."

"Let's _hope_ not." She'd heard all about the evil twin, though they hadn't met thank god.

"It remained Dr. Soong's primary focus in the years after I was left on Omicron Theta. It has been tested by Juliana Tainer and others, and has met every expectation. She gave it to me before I left he Daystrom Institute two days ago. It is an 'engagement present'. She said that after speaking with you she is certain it is something that would enhance our relationship."

"But what about what you said last night? I thought emotion wasn't necessary, that everything about me gave you everything you need? You know I don't want any more from you than you're able to give already." The alteration in Data's expression would have been indiscernible to anyone but Leo, or perhaps Dr. Tainer.

"It is not 'necessary'," he told her quietly. "It is an option we are now able to explore if and when we wish to."

Oh god. The one thing that Data had been longing for since, well, since forever and she couldn't find it in herself to jump for joy until he could do so himself. The fact was, the potential change represented by that tiny bit of silicon terrified her.

"Well is it okay if I think about it?"

"You know you may discuss it with me at any time. It is not 'necessary' to our life together." He took it into the bedroom, and she heard a bureau drawer open and close.

"Shall we go to the ready room together?" Data asked, as if the previous exchange hadn't happened. "You must process my return to duty." She didn't respond, so he took her hand and led her to the door. "Leora Eileen, everything is restored to its desirable state. Do not worry so."

She followed him to the turbolift and continued to hold his hand as they rode to the bridge. Looking sidelong at him she knew, how she knew, that while this new chip may not be "necessary" it was what he'd worked toward at great cost all his life. Having gotten everything she'd wished for herself for quite some time now, she was in no place to advise him to "be careful" of what _he_ wished for.

That little black box symbolized their future together more than the biggest, fattest diamond ring that could exist in the 24th century. Leo sighed internally as the turbolift doors slid open and Data stepped out to the welcomes of his crewmates.

Once more into the unknown, she figured. It ain't like I don't know the way.


End file.
